καταναλωτής
by mktoddsparky
Summary: /She wipes the tears from her cheeks, wondering when the real pain will begin. "I'm not going to transition."/ Elena prepares to spend her last moments while fighting with the knowledge that she might have driven the wrong way that night.
1. i

καταναλωτής

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**a/n: **I think it's about time Elena became a vampire, honestly. There wasn't any other direction for the show to go, though the Klaus aspect is intriguing. I'm glad he isn't dead, but sort of disappointed that Joseph Morgan isn't playing him at this point in time. The moment that Elena said "I love him" to Damon, I kind of broke a little inside. But honestly, the Stelena kiss was just flat for me. I don't think it could have been any other way. Stefan seems just as committed, though more despondent. And their relationship is just safe. I can understand why she wants to go back to him. The whole _consume_ comparison was so well done and overall, it looks hopeful for Delena, at least to me. Reviews are ever appreciated.

If Elena seems a little psychotic in this, I apologize. She'll calm down. Her emotions are just haywire right now.

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_"I was supposed to grow up, decide if I want to have kids and start a family and grow old. Now? It's all gone. _

_I don't want to be a vampire, Stefan. I never wanted to be one." - Elena; 2x20_

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She doesn't wake up like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty.

Not even close.

Instead of gracefully opening her eyes, she lurches up, gasping and sputtering. Damon later said that her eyes were like shiny black pieces of hell. All she remembers is that she couldn't find the correct way to breathe and when she finally did, it scraped the sides of her throat like the sharp point of a knife. She tasted blood on the back of her tongue. Every one of her muscles ached, like she'd worked out for the first time in years. And, oddly enough, she suddenly had the irresistable need to find a snack.

"Elena."

_What is my name_, she thinks blearily.

Something jabs her arm. "Hey," a familiar voice snaps. "You can stop trying to fake your death now. No one buys it."_ Damon_. The name whispers at the edge of her mind, surrounded by a guilty feeling.

"Leave her alone," a softer voice - male - answers. _Stefan_. The one who keeps her safe. The one she loves.

Reluctantly, she peels open an eye and looks at them, tilting her head to the side as if to ask what the big deal is. Both Salvatore brothers are looking down at her with equal expressions of worry. Stefan's is right there in his eyes, bleak, sharp. Damon is trying to hide his, as though he isn't allowed to feel it anymore.

"What happened?" Elena mumbles weakly, wincing as she takes another breath and a wave of pain accompanies it. She feels like a piece of shit, honestly. Can't someone knock her out with a few pills, give her a chance to hibernate?

Both brothers look at each other and then back down at her, their faces tight.

"You and Matt, well -" Stefan begins, struggling for the words.

Damon rolls his eyes, though she can see his lips trembling just the tiniest bit. "You and Matt had an accident. Maybe you thought that bridge diving was a new sport. I'm not sure. Either way, the doc had given you blood to help with your accident _earlier_, and when you died-"

"I _died_?" Elena nearly shoots up off the little table. Stefan's hand flies out and pins her in place. She glares at him, the look quickly fading to fear.

"Well, obviously you're alive now," Damon answers her with one of those smiles. She'd like to smack him, but knows that joking is his way of coping with things. And if what he had said was the truth, he had probably thought she was dead for a little while.

"Wait, if I-" Elena begins, cutting off as the truth dawns on her. "No. No. This can't be happening." She goes to leap off the table, but Stefan restrains her. She glares at Damon, not knowing what else to do with the bubbling fear and anger inside of her. "Are you seriously telling me that I'm in transition?" she shrieks.

Damon shrugs, "More or less." Again, she sees the quiver in his lips.

"Were you guys just going to force-feed me blood too?" Elena cries, waving her arms about. "Were you even going to wake me up?" She jerks herself away from Stefan, feeling guilty about it when his expression turns even more stony.

"I'll get the doctor," Stefan says, heading for the door.

"Don't be such a drama queen," Damon tells her. "Of course we were going to wake you up. I just assumed that you would want to become a vampire to save your oh-so-epic love with my little brother."

Elena grits her teeth. "How can you be so nonchalant about this?" A wave of dizziness overcomes her, and she takes a moment to let the world right itself. Damon unconsciously lurches for her, remembering to back off just before his fingers meet her arm. Some tiny part of her wants to feel his hands on her again. She needs the comfort of someone's touch.

"Because you're alive," Damon argues.

"Don't you even care about how I feel about all of this?" Elena asks him, still pissed off. Her whole body feels like a lead weight, but she refuses to show the dark haired vampire how vulnerable she's actually feeling.

"Don't give me that," Damon spits, his voice heating with rage. "I thought you were _dead_, Elena. So sorry for joking around when you're alive!"

Elena bites on her tongue, wanting to snap back at him, but knowing that he doesn't really deserve it. Suddenly, she remembers something else. "Oh God," she says. "Where is Matt? Is he okay?" Struggling up once more, she tries to launch herself off the bed, but Damon's hand pressing right against her chest, his fingertips brushing the underside of her left breast, stop her. She catches her breath. He sees how her expression changes, how her heart rate picks up, and immediately removes his hand like he's been burned.

"He's in critical condition," Stefan says as he re-enters the room, giving both of them slightly suspicious looks. "But they're keeping a close eye on him. He'll be fine." He tries to smile at her and comfort, doing all he knows how. All of the words inside of her claw and punch for a chance at spilling out of her mouth. She clamps down on her lips.

"Hey there, Elena," Meredith says from next to Stefan. Her cheeks look a little paler than usual and Elena wonders why. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," Elena answers truthfully, feeling the sudden urge to cry. She can't do this. Not now. Not so soon.

Stefan flinches. Damon just looks impassive.

"That's normal," Meredith answers. "Look, because you've got these two, I'm releasing you to bed rest. I trust you'll be feeling better soon, though just keep an eye on it, okay? I'm here for any questions you might have." The way she speaks, it is as if she assumes that Elena is going to go munch on the first person she meets upon exiting the hospital.

"Thanks," Elena answers weakly, her thoughts a mess. She feels numb, yet so close to a breakdown.

"I'll take her home," Stefan says. It's a statement, not an offer.

"As it so happens, my plans for this evening were cancelled," Damon says. "So I might as well join you two."

"Damon," Stefan starts.

"Look," Damon cuts him off, "she almost died. Just let me have one last night. I'll be packed up and gone by the morning."

"You're leaving?" Elena asks. This is what she was afraid of, losing one of them. She can't deal with it now on top of everything else.

Damon shrugs. "You made your choice," he mutters. He doesn't find it prudent to bring up the conversation with Stefan. "So I have to go."

Her lower lip quivers. "But I need you."

"You have Stefan," Damon tells her, though not meanly. It feels like he's stabbing her in the chest. She inhales slowly, trying not to cry. "Speaking of Stefan...brother, why don't you carry the lady to the car. I'm sure she's not in any state to be walking."

"I can walk," Elena argues.

"Stop being a bitch," Damon snaps back at her. She turns away from Stefan when he attempts to pick her up. "Just because you died does not give you the right to act like this."

"Doesn't it?"

"_No_," he stresses, "it doesn't."

"Well, you did it," Elena bickers. She knows she's being childish, but if he's going to leave then she may as well vent all of the terrible, awful feelings brewing inside of her that she can't seem to deal with. "You went on your whole 'pity-me-because-I'm-a-part-of-the-undead' rant and expected everyone to just feel sorry for you."

"Now you choose to use me as your role model," Damon groans, throwing his hands up. "Fabulous, Elena. Can you just let Stefan get you to the car so we can find someone for you to feed from. You'll want to transition as soon as possible."

Stefan opens his mouth to say something, looking a bit shell-shocked at how vicious they are being to one another, but he is cut off before he can begin.

"Who says I want to transition?" Elena yells. "No one has even bothered to ask me that, Damon." Tears bud to the surface of her dark eyes, spilling down her cheeks. Stefan, ever the gentleman, plucks a tissue from one of the boxes in the corner and hands it to her. She takes it, still staring at Damon. He looks devastated. He reaches out to touch her cheek, then thinks better of it. She hates him for dropping his hand. _Just touch me, damn it_.

"Please tell me you're not serious," Damon says, more subdued.

Elena sniffles, beginning to cry even harder. "I told Stefan months ago that I didn't want to become a vampire. I wanted to be able to live my life and raise a family. I told him that I hated being forced into it. What could possibly change my mind, Damon?"

"I don't know," Damon begins, looking panicked, "maybe the love of your life." He gestures towards Stefan.

"Stop acting like I don't care about you," Elena hisses. "Just stop. Maybe I love you too, okay? Maybe I'm just scared about that. But not even loving you two is going to change my mind about this." She wipes the tears from her cheeks, looking at the clock and wondering when the real pain will begin. "I'm not going to transition."

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to be continued

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	2. ii

καταναλωτής

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**a/n: **Wow. I was overwhelmed by the amount of reviews for the first chapter and because of that, I decided to make this story a little more lengthy. However, there is a catch. If you guys will review, then I'll update. As much as I love writing, I have a ton on my plate, many different writing assignments, finals, etc, and I don't want to write a story which quickly loses interest. Deal? (: Reviews are ever welcome.

Side note: The title of the story is Greek. The English translation is _Consume_. I found it appropriate. And if you look at the Greek translation, the first four letters begin to spell out Katherine's (or Katarina's) name. It was such a huge coincidence and the term fits Katherine so well. Plus I just miss her character, so, yeah. :p I had a reviewer ask about that, so I figured I'd clue you all in.

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part _two_

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They end up in a rather compromising position.

Elena has her hands wrapped around the doorframe, having managed to weasel her way there a moment before, and her knuckles are white with the effort from holding on. Sweat beads on her forehead, slipping towards the crevices in her taut lips. Damon has her by both of the legs, straining to pull her back without actually hurting her. But she's holding on just tight enough where he'd probably end up ripping one of her arms off if he really tugged hard enough. Damn her. Stefan has one hand extended towards Elena's waist as if to pull her, while the other hand quivers in front of his brother's icy gaze.

"Would you just let go?" Damon pants.

"Elena, let's go home and talk about this," Stefan echoes. She admires how calm he is able to stay in the midst of her chaos and yet it does nothing but rile her up even more. Somehow it is more exhilarating shouting at Damon and having him deal it right back to her. At least he's honest. He might be brutally harsh, but that blunt honesty kind of reminds her of her mom.

The memory of the bridge - the splash as their car hits the water, pain throbbing in her temples - tries to push its way in, and for a moment her grip loosens on the doorframe. Damon pulls again.

"I thought you would never hurt me," she pants, glaring at Damon.

He rolls his eyes, "I'm not hurting you, Elena. Just let go."

Elena takes a deep breath, forces the edge of tears into it. "Ah," she groans. "Damon, stop. It hurts."

"Damon," Stefan snaps, looking more worried than ever.

Damon releases her immediately. "Elena, I didn't mean-"

"I knew you'd never hurt me," she mumbles, flashing him a triumphant look and dashing out the door. It's stupid. Elena knows that they'll catch up to her in less than a second, but even taking her life into her own hands for this long is wonderful. It makes the caged feeling fade away just a little bit. She swerves around the corner, bangs through the front doors.

Then, just as she is clattering across the parking lot, arms fly around her like steel bars. The air is knocked out of her, and she leans her head back into his familiar chest. As much as she'll never be able to articulate it, or even prove to him that she cares, Elena does care. That's always the problem. I care too damn much, she thinks, tears springing to her eyes.

"Do you want me to force blood down your throat?" Damon growls. His face looks feral and for a moment, Elena is actually frightened.

"Damon," she murmers, swallowing.

"Because I can," he snarls as if he didn't hear her interruption. "I can take you right now and find some harmless pedestrian. It will be your first murder. You'll never forget it, Elena. Maybe then you'll understand a little bit of the hell Stefan and I have been through."

"Why are you acting this way?" Elena cries, turning in his arms, unable to fully detach herself from his body. His fingers are digging into her arms, but she barely feels it. There will be bruises there in the morning, if she's still alive.

"Because this is who I am," Damon hisses. "I'm a monster, Elena. We're all _monsters_."

"You are _not_ a monster," Elena argues quietly, reaching up without thinking to touch his cheek. He stiffens beneath her touch. "You're so much more than that, Damon. I know you're more than that." The tears are building up in her eyes too quickly to surpress and she hates them, hates being so weak. "You're not really going to force-feed me blood, are you?" she asks in little above a whisper. Her throat burns with hunger and she swallows again. "You already did it once. Please, Damon. Don't-"

"What am I supposed to do, Elena?" Damon asks, his voice tight with fear and pain, so much pain. "Am I supposed to just let you die?"

"Yes," Elena says. Her voice wobbles.

His face falls. Guilt hits her like a brick.

"I'm not going to be around here when you die," Damon mutters, stepping away from her and running a hand through his hair. She catches herself looking at his lips, wanting to feel them one last time. "I already had to watch you die vicariously through Ric. I can't go through that again." He takes another step away from her and looks at a spot over her right shoulder. Elena turns to meet Stefan's shadowed face. He is glancing between the two of them.

"Take her home, brother," Damon says with a little knock. "I think I'll pack my things now."

"Damon-"

He is gone, the whistle of wind the only sign that he was here a moment before. Elena stands in place, unable to make her legs work. She feels Stefan's hand slide into hers. "The way you talk to each other," he starts.

"He's an idiot," Elena growls, more tears slipping down her cheeks.

"Let's go home." Stefan begins to tug her towards the car.

She can't do it. "Stefan," Elena groans.

Stefan glances back at her, face a blur of too many emotions to count. He captures her face in his hands, drags her lips up to his. Stefan kisses her as though by doing so he can suck some of his own life into the girl that he loves. That maybe their love will be enough to defeat death. Elena kisses him just as fiercely, as though maybe it will smudge away the dark stain of guilt hovering over her, the little voice that tells her that no matter what choice she makes, she'll have to hurt someone. It doesn't consume her, not like Damon's kisses. She hates that. It makes her feel like her love for Stefan has been damaged thanks to Damon. She made a choice. She chose _Stefan_. She loves him.

"Can't you-" Stefan tries when they part.

She shakes her head. "Not even for you," Elena breathes, squeezing his hand. He doesn't get it. None of them do. This decision is bigger than any of them. This decision is just about her and her morals for once.

Elena can't imagine herself feeding on innocent people, dealing with the lingering taste of blood on her fangs, knowing that she will be incinerated in a second should she take her daylight ring off. She can't be that person. She's not that person and she doesn't think she'll ever be.

Silence falls over them as they slide into the van Stefan bought specifically for carting Klaus around. It has never been like this. They have always found something to talk about. Elena reaches over and turns on the radio, flicking the button until it reaches a classical station, one of Stefan's favorites. He smiles at her. She is unable to keep from smiling back.

"Do you remember the night when you saved me form my parents' car?" Elena asks him, the thought of the car sinking underneath the choppy river water making her queasy. She'll probably always have nightmares about it.

Stefan nods.

"Thank you," she says, turning towards him and sliding her hand through his once more, "for saving me."

"Why bother thanking me?" Stefan asks hoarsely. "It only earned you another year of life."

"Because in that one year, I learned to live," Elena says slowly, mulling over the words. That one afternoon when she stood at the bridge with Matt and flung the flowers into the river surfaces in her memory. Maybe that's the first time she really started to appreciate the fact that she was alive, that it was okay to be different. "I met you, Stefan. We fell in love." Her smile widens. "We still love each other."

"Even after all the crap I put you through," Stefan mutters. The dark tone of his voice bothers her.

"We made it through that," Elena answers slowly, winding her thumb around his. "I made friends, lost friends, learned how to laugh again, and - and-"

"And you met Damon," Stefan says, not sounding all that pleased.

The thought of Damon sends a rush of sadness through Elena. "And I met Damon," she murmers, biting her lip. "I don't understand why he won't let me make my own decisions. He's so overprotective."

"It's because he loves you," Stefan says. It's so unexpected coming from his mouth that Elena does a double-take.

"I know he does," Elena answers, her voice tinged with sadness and frustration. "I just, I can't - love isn't supposed to be about controlling someone's decisions, Stefan. Sometimes he smothers me."

"He does that," Stefan says, casting her a quick glance. "You know, if you're really not going to transition, then you should give him a proper goodbye."

Elena stares at the road in front of them, watching how the headlights casting a rippling patterns against the trees to either side. "Thank you for being so unselfish," she says finally, squeezing his hand again. "I love you."

"I love you too." Stefan flips his turn signal on as they approach the Gilbert driveway.

Elena's hand tightens around his. "Now to break the news to Jeremy," she mumbles, taking a deep breath. Jeremy is standing in the silhouette of the doorway, his face brightening with relief the moment Elena jumps from the passenger seat onto the driveway. He rushes towards her, pulling her off the ground with his exuberant hug. She smiles into his shoulder.

"So, have you completed the transition yet?" Jeremy asks. He looks so hopeful that she considers lying.

"Jer," Elena sighs, kneeding her forehead.

Jeremy's brow furrows. "What's going on?"

Stefan pats the boy's shoulder. Jeremy looks between them, his face freezing with disbelief.

"Jer," Elena begins again, eyes watering, "I'm not going to transition."

He goes absolutely still. Then, without any warning, he begins to cry. "No, no," he sobs, stumbling away from her. "Elena you can't do that."

"Jeremy, please," Elena begs, following him into the house. "You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly," Jeremy cries, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "You're _abandoning_ me. I have no one left but you, Elena. You can't die!"

Tears break from Elena's eyes again - she's cried more tonight than she has in her entire life, she thinks. "You'll still have Stefan and Damon," she tries again. "Jer, I can't-"

"Stefan and Damon are here for you," Jeremy accuses, glaring at Stefan. "The moment you're dead, they'll be too heartbroken to do anything but skip town. What am I going to do then?"

"Call Caroline and Bonnie," Elena tells Stefan through her tears. "Ask Caroline how long she thinks I'll have before -" she can't say it. "I just need to talk to them."

Stefan nods, giving them both a worried glance before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Elena," Jeremy whimpers once they're alone. "Please don't let yourself die. Please don't leave me here."

She feels a little part of her heart break as her little brother cries in front of her. The last time he was so open about his feelings was the weeks following their parents' deaths. He had tried to put the mask on then, too, but the grief had been too much for the both of them. He'd spent just as much time in bed as she had. It kills her to see him so vulnerable, so alone.

"Jeremy, I can't feed on innocent people," Elena whispers. "That's not who I am." He falls to the floor and she sinks beside him, cradling Jeremy in her arms as sobs shake his body. She isn't sure how long they linger there on the floor, only that there is a pain blossoming in her gums and her brother's blood is practically singing to her. She ignores it. _I will not bite Jeremy. That is not an option. _

Stefan re-enters the room. "Caroline says that you probably have a matter of hours," he croaks, watching her hold Jeremy's feeble form.

Elena nods. She leans her head against the top of Jeremy's brown hair and begins to sing a familiar song their mother used to sing for them before it was time to go say goodnight. Their mom had called it "goodbye until tomorrow." Strangely fitting for a time like this.

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to be continued

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	3. iii

καταναλωτής

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**a/n: **Alright guys, let's see if you like this one (: I'm aware that Elena's been whiny in the past chapters. I just think it reflects how her character is being on the show. But at the same time, I like to incorporate characteristics that I think Elena _should_ have.

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part _three_

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Her eyes feel heavy. So, so heavy, like they don't even want to open.

Elena forces them up, feels her eyelashes brush at the graying skin on the top of her cheekbones. She's lying in her room, alone. There is a candle gently flickering on her desk, flinging the soft scent of rose petals across the room. Her iPod has been plugged into an amplifier beside a pile of books on the floor, and if Elena strains, she can hear Barbra Streisand singing about the _smiles we gave one another...the way we were._

Elena shifts under the blankets, feeling uncomfortably hot. Her forehead is burning up. She goes to sit up and a rush of nausea hits her. Pain slashes down her spinal chord, trickles down into her legs. Briefly, she wonders how she got up here. Maybe Stefan or Caroline carried her up after their little "Hope-Your-Death-Is-Painless" party. Elena can still taste the combination of strawberry cake and vodka on her tongue.

"Stefan," she croaks, knowing that he'd been downstairs just earlier, with Jeremy. "Jer?"

There is no answer, save the gentle patter of wind against the window-pane. _Maybe they couldn't deal with watching me die_, Elena thinks miserably, searching about her until she digs up her phone. She dials Stefan's number, but it goes straight to voice-mail. _He couldn't stay. I thought he loved me_. She then realizes how selfish that thought is. Of course Stefan loves her. The reason he and Jeremy aren't here is precisely for that reason. She's hurting them all. It seems that no matter what she does, it ends up looking selfish. Maybe she's just a selfish bitch, like Damon had insinuated earlier.

"Damon," Elena breathes through cracked lips. Her tongue trembles. Her mouth quivers. She dials his number and presses the phone to her ear.

He answers on the first ring. "What do you want?"

Elena's heart gives a huge jolt in her chest and she gasps as pain blossoms through her. "It hurts, Damon," she whimpers. "Please, can you come over?"

"I already told you that I'm done," Damon mutters, but it just sounds sad. "Tell me where it hurts. I'll just use my telepathic ju-ju."

She smiles through her tears. "It hurts everywhere," she answers softly. "I can't - I can't even walk, Damon. I'm so scared." She takes a deep breath, determined not to let him hear how upset she is. The only thing she needs is to hear his voice.

"Elena-" Damon begins. She can imagine him preparing to tell her that she's made her choice, that no matter how much he loves her, it will never be enough, because she'll always want Stefan.

"Shh," she whispers into the phone, squeezing her eyes shut as they blur out. Her head pounds, aches. "If you hadn't noticed, you got the goodbye." Elena doesn't think it's prudent to mention that she called Stefan first. Damon needs to at least know how much she cares about him before she is gone. "Tell me that everything is going to be okay."

"I can't do that," Damon says bluntly. She can hear choking sounds from his end. He's crying.

"Okay," she breathes, her lungs burning as they struggle for air. The phone begins to droop in her hand, sliding down the side of her ear. "Damon-"

"Don't say goodbye," he hisses. He doesn't need to say _i love you_. She can hear it behind every word that he's saying.

"Take care of Jeremy," Elena manages to tell him. Her throat swells up. She can hear every heart-beat thudding like the beginning of an earthquake. It rattles her chest, making her cough. She takes another breath, but it hurts too much to finish. _This is it_. "Damon-"

"Elena, don't-"

The phone hits the ground.

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_"Damon."_ The sound of his name bottles in her throat as Elena lurches up and looks around her. _Just a dream_. Her heart continues to pound. _Not real, not yet_. She's lying down on the couch. Bonnie is sitting on the other one, cradling Jeremy's face in her lap. He is fast asleep. She is watching him with a soft kind of admiration in her eyes.

"I thought you guys were fighting," Elena mumbles sleepily, stretching her arms above her head and trying to cover up the panic in her eyes. It aches to move her muscles, but not as badly as she'd feared.

"He's going to need someone to take care of him when you're gone," Bonnie says, looking over at her friend and smiling seriously. "I'm going to be that person."

"You don't have to do that," Elena insists.

"It's not for you." Bonnie runs a gentle hand through his hair, pausing at a scar at the left end of his hair-line. "I just can't get him out of my head, Elena. No matter what I seem to do." She shrugs casually, but her face betrays her. "I guess I just decided to stop fighting it."

"Well good," Elena says with a nod. "He keeps mumbling about you in his sleep, introducing you at random points in a conversation."

Bonnie looks surprised. "I was just so mad about Anna," she mumbles. "He loves her."

"That doesn't mean he can't love you," Elena says.

"Speaking of mumbling about people in their sleep," Bonnie says, giving Elena a pointed look. "I thought you finally chose Stefan. You know, the one who might not accidentally make you a snack."

"You shouldn't be so critical of Damon," Elena chastises, cheeks going pink. "He just - he's been through a lot, and he's working on it, but it's not something he can get over. But once you get past it all..." she mutters, her voice fading away as she remembers the way his eyes would bore into her, like chipped sapphires. She remembers all of the times he'd actually be kind and surprise her. The amount of times Damon has actually shown his humanity to her are more numerous than she'd like to think about.

"Why were you dreaming about him?" Bonnie asks, her voice still a little cold.

"I woke up and I was dying," Elena says slowly, flinching as she brings up the dark dream. "I called him. I was scared and I just needed to hear his voice." She shrugs. "It might not make much sense to you, Bonnie, and most of the time it doesn't make sense to me either, but he just-"

"-consumes you," Bonnie finishes. Her hand comes to rest of Jeremy's cheek. "If he makes you feel that way, then why can't you just try things with him?" She pauses. "I admit, I really can't stand him, but he makes you happy. Why won't you get past Stefan, even for a moment, and see that?"

"Because I love Stefan," Elena argues. "I'd be betraying him if I ever-"

"You're dying, Elena," Bonnie snaps, and Elena's mouth snaps shut. The witch's eyes burn with frustration. "It's like you said about Anna and Jeremy. Just because he loves her doesn't mean he can't love me too. You only have one night to figure this all out, and then you're gone. Take a chance."

Elena sits there, still, for a minute, digesting Bonnie's words. _You only have one night. Take a chance._

"I need to go find Damon," she decides at last, standing up. Her legs ache, but she can still put her weight on them. Heading for the door, Elena grabs a coat and prepares to head out. Then she thinks of something, and glances back at Bonnie and her sleeping brother. "Hey Bonnie?"

"Hmm?" Bonnie asks with a little frown.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all of this," Elena says. "Everyone always pays attention to me and never to you, and that's not fair. I just don't understand how you can stick by me even after all that."

"You're my friend," Bonnie says, "and I love you. I could never let go of that." Her face darkens a little more, hollow out. "And maybe you're making the choice I wish my mother had made. I don't think I can stand to see you become one of them."

The two girls stare at each other for a long moment.

"Aren't you going to miss me?" Elena asks. It sounds incredibly selfish, but the thought of Bonnie happy that she is making the choice to die kind of sickens her.

"Of course I am," Bonnie admits, her voice shaking. "Part of me wants to lock you up and force you to drink blood, just so I can keep you alive. But you won't be you anymore, Elena. You wouldn't be my best friend."

_You wouldn't be my best friend._ That's what Bonnie doesn't seem to get. Elena smiles flatly and then heads towards her car, the front door shutting gently behind her. Sitting down in the front seat of the car, she stares at the house for a long time. _My best friend wants me dead._ It makes Elena wonder, in the end, if the vampires are the real monsters. Words can be more monstrous than anything, sometimes. Humanity is not just pure; they can be sickening and hurtful too. It's not just vampires. Everyone, mythical or not, holds the ability to be a monster.

She has often been the biggest monster of all, allowing her friends to die for her, making people risk their lives just to keep her safe. Jenna, Alaric, Bill Forbes and Bonnie's mom are all dead because of _her_. It is no wonder that Jeremy got into the wrong crowd and now breaks down at the thought of losing a friend, no surprise that Damon's face darkens whenever Alaric is brought up. Caroline doesn't even bring up her dad, same with Bonnie's mom, but it killed some part of their innocence, left them cold, hurting. Jenna's memories haunt their home. Dead. Dead. All dead.

_God, how could I do this_, she wonders, her mouth opening in a silent wail.

Elena cups her face in her hands as she breaks down.

"I wish you were here, mom," she whispers through her fingertips.

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to be continued

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	4. iv

καταναλωτής

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**a/n**: Okay, guys, here is the next chapter. After this installment Elena will finally choose, just so you know. I apologize for the short length of this chapter, as well as the evil cliffhanger, but hopefully the next chapter will make up for it (: Reviews are ever appreciated. Do you think we could reach 100 reviews, everyone? That would be so incredibly awesome. It's sitting at 52 reviews right now, which is amazing. I'm so thankful for all of you who review. You have no idea how happy it makes me. But yeah, you're not here to listen to me blab virtually. Read along, and I hope you enjoy it!

**.**

part _four_

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..**.**

It takes Elena three failed attempts before she manages to jiggle the keys in the ignition correctly. Her hands are shaking uncontrollably; she's not sure if it's due to nerves, stress, or the fact that her body is slowly shutting down.

No, it's definitely the key's fault.

Everything looks brighter than usually, and Elena figures that some of the vampire attributes must be leaking into her, even though she never permitted it to begin with. But the sight of the sun catching behind a row of tall oak trees and casting an elaborate pattern across the earth makes her smile. It all looks so beautiful today, achingly so.

Her knees quiver, and then her legs begin to shake. Elena suddenly feels like stopping on the side of the road, jumping from the car and sprinting the rest of the way to the Salvatore mansion. _It's the blood in your system_, she reminds herself, shaking her head. Her head spins a little, eyes blurring for a second. She presses down on the brake. Her head begins to hurt, then pound, worse and worse until she's grimacing. Someone honks behind her, no doubt irritated with her grandma-like driving skills. She contemplates flipping them off, but decides otherwise. Instead, she pulls over and purposely looks the other way when the sleek BMW roars past her, kicking up dirt.

Fingers trembling, Elena pulls out her phone and dials Caroline's number.

"How are you?" Caroline asks after the second ring, sounding more worried than Stefan, Damon and Jeremy put together. "Are you still breathing? Do I need to call Meredith?"

"Care," Elena grunts.

"Oh. Sorry," Caroline apologizes with a little chuckle. "I'm being a mother hen again."

"Just a little," Elena answers. A laugh bubbles out of her, stinging as it climbs up her throat. "I need a favor."

"Did you need me to bring over that vodka now?" Caroline wonders, her voice brightening. "You can't deny it forever."

"Umm, I think Damon will have plenty," Elena says without thinking.

"You're with Damon?" Caroline asks, her voice tightening just slightly. While she doesn't dislike Damon quite so much as Bonnie, he'd still put her under compulsion and seduced her when he very well knew she couldn't say otherwise. True, the blonde vampire wasn't nearly so weak anymore - she'd broken several of Damon's bones since her transition - she still got uncomfortable being around him for too long.

"I'm driving over there," Elena mutters, taking a deep breath as pain erupts in her lower abdomen. She gasps.

"You're _driving_?" Cue frantic mother hen. "Lena, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Elena jokes weakly. She grabs at her stomach as the stabbing pains slowly fade away. "Do you think you could come find me where I'm parked? I can't - it's getting worse. I can't drive." It's the worst thing in the world to admit it, even to Caroline, but sometimes Elena has to suck up her pride.

"Where are you?" Caroline asks.

Elena tells her, naming several of the familiar landmarks - _"you know, that tree with the funny looking knob in the middle."_ Then she hangs up. Not even two minutes later, a sharp breeze whips the trees around the car and there stands Caroline in jeans and a purple blouse, looking fierce.

"Get out of the driver's seat," Caroline orders. Once Elena has scooted over to the passenger seat and the blonde is behind the wheel, she asks, "Elena, can I please just take you home? I don't think-"

"Please," Elena begs, leaning back and inhaling slowly. "I need to talk to Damon. I just - I have to say goodbye." Blinking back the moisture in her eyes, Elena looks over at the suddenly stiff back of her close friend. "What's wrong, Care?"

"Nothing," Caroline answers unpersuasively. She turns the car on and pulls back onto the road, picking up her speed until the sights outside the window start to blur. "I'm just going to miss you, that's all." Swallowing, Caroline glances quickly at Elena and smiles, big and fake.

"Oh, Care." Elena wishes she could wrap her arms around the blonde. As it is, she has to settle for placing a shaky hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'm going to miss you too."

Silence falls over them. And then, finally, Caroline blurts out, "I just don't understand why you can't transition. I did, and I'm happy."

Elena sighs, crossing her arms loosely about her chest, and says, "I just can't, Care. I can't turn into a monster, not after all you guys have done to protect me."

"You're better off alive than dead," Caroline argues.

"Better to die human than live as a vampire, unable to look have the people in town in the face. I've been fighting for my humanity for so long, Caroline. I just can't imagine giving that up." Elena turns to look out the window, trying to blink the blurriness from her eyes. It won't go away. An ache begins to build up in her chest, clawing uncomfortably at her panicking heart.

"I get it," Caroline says with a shrug. Her voice softens. "I mean, I don't think it's so bad. I hated it when I first transitioned, but-"

"Care, I appreciate it, I really do," Elena interjects a bit sharply, a bit sadly, "but I'm not going to change my mind. I told Stefan and Damon that I didn't want to transition and I fully intend to keep my word."

"Yeah, well, you also said that you chose Stefan, yet here you are hurrying after Damon," Caroline mutters.

"Hey," Elena snaps. "Low blow." The ache within her sparks for a second, shooting pain across her shoulders. She winces.

Caroline doesn't answer, but the corners of her lips turn down, just for a second. Not long after, she's turning on the radio and singing along with a huge, glittering smile on her face.

They pull up onto the driveway facing the Salvatore mansion a few minutes later, and the ache building within Elena's chest suddenly erupts across her whole body. "Oh God," she gasps, tossing her head back and screaming. Forcing open the door, she collapses onto the ground, writhing and frothing at the mouth.

"Elena," Caroline screeches, throwing the car into park and clambering out. Hurrying around the front, she just catches a glimpse of Damon rushing out the front door, his blue eyes as wide as her own probably are. Then everything within her comes to a sickening halt.

Elena is twitching on the ground, her eyes wide open, sightless, turning gray. There is already a blue tinge creeping onto her skin, and blood is dripping from the corner of her mouth, staining the ground about her head like a distorted halo.

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to be continued

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	5. v

καταναλωτής

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**a/n**: Seventy reviews already? You guys are so amazing! :D Here is the next chapter, and I really hope that you enjoy it. Keep on reviewing and I'll keep on writing more ;) And I will try not to add too many more cliffhangers. People hate me for those, but I just love them so much. Lol.

If you're confused, the first part of this is Elena going through her accident with Matt again from an out of body perspective. I know, the way it is written is choppy and stuff, but that is how I pictured her mindset. She's too bland in the show about it as she's dying, in my opinion.

This chapter is dedicated to a dear friend of mine that recently decided that I wasn't worth it. I love you, always.

**.**

part _five _

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_"I will never stop trying. I will never stop watching as you leave. I will never stop losing my breath, every time I see you looking back at me. And I will never stop holding your hand. I will never stop opening your door. I will never stop choosing you, babe. I will never get used to you. _

_You still get my heart racing for you."_

..**.**

She doesn't exist, cannot see herself. Her eyes are glazed, but she seems to be glimpsing the outline of a smashed car. The headlights on the front of the car are slowly flickering into nothing. There are two shapes within the car, one at the driver's seat and the other resting against the passenger seat window. Her hair is creeping up the window, following the cracks.

_Who are these people? Where am I?_ It all feels so familiar. Her heart begins to pound, so hard. She feels like thrashing, and yet she doesn't move. There is no need to move. What are these feelings?

Suddenly a ray of moonlight from above hits the face of the passenger in the wrecked car. Pale skin, eyes dark with panic, hands biting into the boy's arm as he floats in the water behind the wheel. The girl's mouth opens, a silent wail bubbling out, and she feels a pang strike her heart. _Am I the girl-_

There is someone swimming towards the car, opening the door. Relief strikes her, blossoms across the girl's face. _My savior_, comes the thought which is not her own. _But no...Matt, we have to-_

The girl waves her hands. She feels fear, pain, worry, too much, too much. The man is looking at her with steely golden eyes. _Please save me_, the girl is thinking, she is thinking, not saying. _Take me. Take me. Don't, please-_

The girl feels like screaming at him because it hurts so much to breathe. It hurts, she can't die, she's not ready, not like her parents. But her face stays still. The man grabs the boy behind the wheel, drags him out. _I'll come back_, he says with his eyes towards the girl. She nods, crying inside, clinging to the last vestiges of life within her. Her chest aches, bubbles travel up towards the roof of the car. _Goodbye, Stefan_, the girl thinks, eyes drooping and losing their hope. _Don't let Damon hurt for too long._

Death creeps towards her from the shadows under the cresting waves, grabbing her limbs, dragging away the pulses of her heart. It hurts so much, too much. _No, please,_ the girl thinks dimly, stiffening. _Mommy! Daddy! No! Stefan, come back- _

He dives back underwater, but it is too late. The girl spots his shadow, feels one last tearing ache rip across the core of her being. Then she is gone. The man reaches her, pauses, tugs on her wrist with disbelieving eyes. His face crumples as he drags her from the car, cradling her in his arms.

**.**

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..**.**

"Are you really that much of an idiot?"

"She has to make her own decisions." The comment is followed by a weary sigh.

She feels like she is underwater. Her limbs are frozen, trapped by something she cannot see. _What is my name? Who am I?_ She tries to scream, writhe, but immediately the feeling is sucked away, leaving her numb once more. _Help me. _

"She nearly _died_. There's no way in hell she can make a rational decision."

"Blondie, you're so much more pleasant with your mouth shut. Have I ever told you?"

"Don't treat me like I'm the crazy one, Damon. I know you're just as worried about her."

"So you finally believe that I'm not a heartless psychopath?" There is the dull sound of clapping, reverberating in her eardrums. "Please, do share what changed your opinion of me."

Something about that voice makes her heart thump in her chest. Warmth surges over her skin, not enough to free her. The frost over her lips cracks silently and the ringing in her ears becomes pronounced voices. She remembers pain, falling, hitting her head and tasting blood on her lips. Then...nothing. Just blackness, all encompasing.

"Who do you think?"

There is a long silence.

"No," comes the disbelieving response._ Oh Damon_. "Elena wouldn't - she chose-"

"It doesn't matter who she chose," replies Caroline, her tone slightly less condescending. "It doesn't matter whether she loves Stefan or not. That has nothing to with her opinion of you, Damon. She respects you so much more than you'd ever care to believe, more than she'll even admit. And she actually cares about you. How many people can you say that about? No matter what she might feel for your brother, who I still think is _better_ for her, by the way, it won't affect how much she loves you."

"And you got all of this how?" Damon sputters. She feels his fingers curl around her cold ones and the gesture is enough to calm her frantic heartbeat just a little.

"I have my ways," Caroline answers, a smirk in her tone. "You know, Damon, I think you're the only person who could possibly change her mind about this."

"But I won't," he says softly.

"And why not?" Caroline squawks.

"Because she's actually doing what she believes is right," Damon answers heatedly. "For once, she's listening to herself. It's about damn time."

"Actually, she's not."

_What? I am too_. The thought comes out of nowhere, and then disappears. She still can't move.

"What are you talking about, Caroline?" Damon growls. The fact that he's actually using her name just shows how frustrated and scared he is about all of this.

"She's trying to please everyone around her," Caroline says. "Bonnie doesn't want Elena to become "a monster." Her words, not mine. Elena thinks that changing will affect Jeremy. She's afraid that she'll chomp down on the first human she wanders across. She isn't doing it for _herself_. She's trying to keep everyone else safe and happy, like always. Typical Elena."

At that moment, a shuddering breath escapes through Elena's lips, followed by the sound of sobs. The memory of the car crash wafts over her and Elena doesn't know what is going on, only that she is somehow alive and more conflicted than ever. "How am I - what-"

"Shh," Damon murmers, his voice softening immediately. He goes to pull her into his body, but Elena shoves him away, too panicked to think straight. She stumbles away from the two vampires, nearly knocking into an end-table. Her body quivers uncontrollably and her head spins so harshly that Elena's afraid she might actually fall over. The hunger knaws at her aching stomach. She tries to remember the last time she ate.

"Elena, shut the hell up and stop moving," Caroline shouts.

Everyone freezes. Tears cloud over in Elena's eyes. "Care," she whimpers. "It hurts."

"I know," Caroline answers, walking over slowly and placing a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. "Right now you need to go lie down and let Damon fix you something to eat. Then you can talk about what's hurting so we can figure out how to fix it."

"There's only one way to fix it," Elena answers, eyes still wide, frightened. "I either drink blood or I don't, Caroline. Either way, I hurt someone."

"Elena-" Damon begins again.

Caroline hushes him, flinging a hand out behind her when he tries to move towards them. Her glare has him backtracking.

"We'll deal with that later, okay?" Caroline tells Elena, speaking as she would to a child. "Can you let Damon carry you to bed?"

After a long pause in which she decides whether or not to try walking again, Elena finally nods. Damon is beside them in a second, trying so hard not to look concerned. As his arms weave around her she remembers a flash of her dream in which Stefan's fingers had pried at her wrist, and more tears spring to her eyes. _Don't let Damon see them_, Elena thinks instinctively. _Don't hurt him more than you already have_. Closing her eyes, she buries her face into Damon's chest and forces away any and all thoughts, simply letting herself breathe.

"I'm tired of sleeping," she whispers into Damon's shoulder as he carries her up the stairs.

"I know," he mumbles back. "I know."

**.**

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..**.**

When she wakes up, Elena is staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. The edges of the dream fade away, taking with them the memory of Stefan's face as Klaus had screamed in his face, draining his humanity. There is a prickling in her neck; the bite marks are long gone, but she can still remember blood trickling down towards her collarbone, drenching her.

"You were tossing and turning in your sleep."

Startled, Elena whirls to see Damon sitting in a rocking chair beside the bed, cupping a glass of bourbon in his left hand. The area around his mouth is slightly wet, the tiny hairs plastered down. After staring at him for a second and taking several deep breath, Elena turns her attention to her hands folded on her lap.

"Where is Caroline?" Elena asks.

"She said something about dealing with Tyler," Damon answers gruffly.

Elena nods slowly, biting her lower lip.

"I've been having nightmares," she admits quietly. "Is that normal? Did Rose-"

He nods once, succinctly. Elena notices how his face tightens when she brings up Rose.

"I'm scared, Damon," she whispers.

"It's your choice," Damon answers, though not meanly. "You could drink blood and have it all go away."

Elena swallows, shaking her head. "Please don't try to change my mind," she says hoarsely. "Everyone is always trying to change my mind."

"Okay," he says, dropping it, to her surprise. "Are you hungry?"

Elena opens her mouth, drool tipping over the edges of her lips as she pictures her face nuzzled into a human's neck, blood slipping down her throat. Then the thought snaps, leaving nothing but revulsion. She shivers, clamps her mouth shut.

"I meant for human food," Damon clarifies, a hint of irritation in his tone.

"I know," Elena responds softly. She is about to refuse him when she notices how weary he looks, so desperate for something good to happen. She hates seeing him like this. "Sure," she tells him.

"Anything in particular?" Damon asks, already getting out of his seat.

"Surprise me," Elena breathes, forcing a smile.

"Okay." He takes a step towards the door, hesitates, then turns back and gives her a look burning with something she can't place. Elena's breath catches in her chest as he lowers his head and presses his lips gently to hers, just for a moment. Her hand cups the side of his face as she loses herself in the kiss, letting it consume her. Something cracks within her and she feels her body ignite. They kiss again, rougher, more animalistic. Elena doesn't let herself think, just takes it as it is, takes him as he is. For just a second, their hands tangle together, tight, one. They are one.

"I'm sorry," Damon says when he pulls back, looking uncertain. "I just needed to do that."

Their hands loosen, fingers barely brushing.

"Okay," Elena whispers, unable to look away from him. Her heart thunders. "Okay."

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to be continued

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	6. vi

καταναλωτής

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**a/n:** I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a few days. I have been in a bad place lately and I just couldn't bring myself to write anything. But here I am, as promised. I really hope that you enjoy this chapter and again, I am truly sorry for not updating sooner. Forgive me?

**.**

part _six_

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_Drowning in here, the air is not fair, it pierces my lungs, don't want to run._ _Move, slow, and let them know that I will pray for who I am, but I won't pray for who I'm not._

..**.**

She wakes up to the sound of quiet footsteps outside. Curiously, Elena peeps through the dusty blinds and feels the barest hint of a smile curl onto her lips as she spots the jogger bent over, trying her shoelaces. Without even thinking, she slides out of bed, padding gently past the roaring flames in the loft. Damon has his face buried into the couch, dried tears staining his cheeks. There is an empty cup on the table next to him, but he doesn't seem to be looking at it. It seems as if there isn't any life in him.

_I'm doing this_, Elena thinks guiltily. _I can't do it. I've got to make him happy, somehow._

The footsteps from outside echo again. Giving Damon's still figure a last glance, Elena noiselessly opens the door and slips outside into the cool breeze.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman apologizes, straightening up and backing off of the lawn. "My shoelaces came undone."

"No problem," Elena answers, the words slipping coldly through.

The jogger's eyes glimmer with a hint of fear, but it is quickly replaced with an innocent smile. Tightening the ponytail holder around her mane of blonde hair, the woman begins to jog again. After waiting a few seconds, Elena begins to follow, not even bothering with jogging. It doesn't take long for the sun to creep behind the hills, casting everything in a twilight hue.

Finally, the woman seems to sense something. She looks back and sees Elena. Her brow furrows, lips opening in a silent question. "Oh, are you jogging too?"

"No," Elena says simply.

The woman speeds up a little, giving Elena a worried glance. Then she turns around, breaking into a run that isn't meant to look forced, but does. Her breathing picks up and her heart begins to thud against her chest. Elena sniffs the air, can practically taste the woman's sweet blood on her tongue.

"Hey," Elena calls out just loudly enough to catch the woman's attention.

"Yes?" The woman answers cautiously, sweating beginning to bead on the furrows in her forehead. Her muscles roll and then tighten as the rational half of her plans to run away, probably home to a husband that doesn't pay attention to her and kids that refuse to eat their vegetables. However, as her pupils dilate, the other half of her surfaces, one that is enthralled by Elena's mystery, the half of her that is going to get her killed.

"I'm sorry," Elena whispers, genuinely meaning it. She smiles regretfully, thinking of just yesterday when she was adament about staying away from the temptation, refusing to become this monster who inflicts pain on innocent people. And yet here she is, smiling just enough to reveal the pointed tips of her fangs. Elena knows she looks beautiful, chilling too, and she hates it.

The woman inhales sharply, beginning to back away. "I should - um, get home," she stutters, trying to play it off.

She is terrified. The scent of her fear is delicious.

Elena follows her slowly, the smile widening on her face as the woman begins to sprint away, cries rasping in the back of her throat. The victims always feel as if they actually have a chance once they are confronted with the demons of the night. _Please_, she scoffs, continuing to follow the woman and wondering if she should snap her neck or drink slowly, savor each sip. Elena has seen Stefan and Damon in their darkest moments, watched them hum with desire as they followed their prey without any sense of regret.

"No," the woman shrieks as she runs. "_Please_."

Elena sighs, beginning to get bored. "I'm sorry," she says again, slowly, the veins beginning to bud under her eyes, gruesome shades of red and green.

The woman chokes on a sob.

There is a whoosh as Elena sprints forward. A _crack_ splits the air, followed by a gurgled scream cut short.

**.**

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..**.**

"_Elena_," someone is hissing. "Elena, _stop!_"

Elena continues to thrash underneath the hands holding her, choking on the blood in her mouth. "I'm sorry," she cries, trying to rip the person's arms away from her chest. "I didn't mean to kill her." Her head pounds and she can feel the fresh pain in her gums, threatening to erupt. Every particle in her body feels just about ready to burst and she hates the feeling, hates how out of control she feels. How could she _kill_ somebody. What is _wrong_ with her?

"Elena, you didn't kill anybody," the person answers slowly. "Please calm-"

"I broke her neck," Elena screeches, the world blurring around her, slipping in and out of color. Tears slide, hot, down her cheeks. "I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't kill anybody," the voice repeats, stuck between frantic worry and annoyance. "Do I need to knock you out? I have a baseball bat in the closet down the hall."

She recognizes the voice and wonders if he's been drinking. His words don't sound slurred. Slowly, painfully, Elena extracts herself from the world of horror creeping like black slime over her skin and forces herself to look up at Damon. The tears are still budding in her eyes, but the soft cries this time are from fear, not from rage or insanity.

"It felt so real," Elena whispers numbly. Another tear streaks down her cheek, dripping off the edge of her jaw.

"You were dreaming," Damon says, not quite a guess, not quite an understanding.

"I killed a woman," Elena says , remembering the woman's scream as Elena's fangs had pierced her neck, how blood had dotted her pretty blonde hair. "I couldn't stop myself. I-" _was a monster_. She doesn't want to say it, but by the look on Damon's face, it seems that he gets it.

Elena throws her arms around him, burying her head into his neck. It's probably the most selfish thing in the world to get this close to the Salvatore she didn't choose, but some part of her that she doesn't like to recognize needs Damon's presence desperately. A slow burn builds in the edges of her fingertips gripping the back of his neck, traveling down her shoulders and across the rest of her body. Her lips remember glowing as he'd kissed them and Elena pushes away the thought, focusing on the fact that Damon is here and he cares.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asks quietly after he's held her for a good ten minutes.

"Only about a half hour," Damon responds. His voice is light, but in the depths of his icy blue eyes, Elena can see every feeling he's trying to hide from her.

"Oh," Elena says, kind of disappointed that it wasn't longer. If she'd been unconscious, she wouldn't have had to face the conflicting opinions of everyone around her and her own indecision. "Did Stefan call?" She hopes that Stefan hasn't been doing anything stupid.

Damon smiles, but it's purely sarcastic. "Don't worry," he says, "my brother isn't in Ripperville. He's just...entertaining a drink or two at the Grill, is all."

Elena winces. "He shouldn't be-"

"Don't play that game," Damon snaps. He shrugs. "You can be mad at him all you want, but I don't think that my little brother can handle sitting by your bed-side and watching the girl that he loves slowly dying."

"And you can?" Elena asks sharply.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Damon responds wearily. He shrugs his shoulders up and down, trying to appear frustrated.

Her first instinct is to push away, gently say his name in an admonishing way which will make him understand that he needs to back away. At least, that worked when Elena thought she knew that Stefan was it for her. But now she's dying, and Damon's here, even when she's pushed him away too many times to count. Just once, he deserves not to be pushed away. She takes a deep breath.

"Yeah," Elena tells him, "you are." She wipes the skin under her eyes and winces at the flaky residue of makeup and tears her fingers encounter. She must look awful. Where is a mirror when she needs one?

Damon only looks surprised for a second. Then the casual smirk she knows so well settles back on his lips. "You're acting nice."

"Yes," Elena says slowly, eyebrows raising. "Is that a problem?"

"No, no," Damon says with a grin. "Just let me enjoy this for a second."

"Enjoy what?" Elena asks, gritting her teeth as he continues to eye with that cocky smile of his that drives her crazy. He's about to hold something over her that will probably set her off and he _knows_ it, the bastard.

"Oh nothing," Damon says, his voice all sing-song like. "I just find it nice that for once in your life, you're pursuing me."

Elena jumps at the words. The memory of his lips tracing her own like they have a silent language all their own comes up again and she curses the fact that her cheeks are flaming.

"You're thinking about kissing me," Damon practically croons.

Leaning away from him and crossing her arms, Elena scoffs, "Please, let's not blow things out of proportion."

"Oh," Damon purrs, "okay. Who are you thinking about then?"

Elena says nothing.

"Is it Matt?" Damon asks. "No, he doesn't consume you. Jeremy...well, unless you're into that..."

"Who says I want anyone to consume me?" Elena asks, jutting out her chin defiantly.

In a flash, Damon is in front of her, on top of her, pinning her back against the headrest with his face much too close to her own. His eyes trace her face, eager and afraid all in one. Elena sees his lips part and her own follow without question. Her thoughts become a pile of mush as a delicious burning feeling travels through the core of her being. His tongue darts out, tracing the outline of her mouth, and she quivers, loving the way he molds perfectly around her. It consumes her and hurts her and makes her feels so indescribably full, and it seems impossible that it should be so.

"I say so," Damon murmers, his eyes softening as they linger on each aspect of her face. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Elena."

"I'm not afraid," Elena manages to whisper. She feels choked up.

"You're shivering," he points out. Keeping one of his hands braced, he uses his other hand to brush the outline of her face, hesitating on her jawline as he lifts her chin ever so slightly, aligning her lips.

Elena feels like she is going to cry. "Oh," she says.

_I haven't been afraid of you in a long time_. That's what she wants to say. But her damn tongue betrays her, as usual.

He lifts himself off of her then, and Elena almost misses the warmth of him. Thankfully, he doesn't leave the room, stopping at the edge of her bed to eye her inquisitively. "Do you have a bucket list?" he asks.

It catches Elena off guard. "I guess," she answers slowly. "It was more the knowledge that I wanted to be with the people I love, doing things that I love, on the last day of my life." Shrugging, she fixes her brown eyes on him and waits for him to speak.

"Can I show you something?" Damon asks, his face still smooth, soft. He holds out his hand.

She can hear the unspoken question. _Am I really the person you want to be with when you're dying, Elena?_

And just like the days when they were hunting for Stefan, when Elena promised that she trusted Damon, when she'd follow him anywhere, her hand slips into his. Their fingers interlock perfectly.

"Let's go," Elena tells him, smiling.

Damon's smile echoes her own, bright and warm.

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to be continued

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	7. vii

καταναλωτής

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**a/n**: Hey guys (: The story passed _100_ reviews! Thank you so much. I wasn't expecting it, considering how overdue the last chapter was. And yes, this one is far overdue, mainly because I had trouble writing it, and also because of Fanfiction. They removed one of my stories because I used the word "bitch" in my summary, and according to their guidelines (which I seriously doubt many people read) summaries have to be_ G_ rated. Personally I find it silly, because I rated the story T and if any readers didn't want to run into profanity, they could always search for _G_ rated stories. But whatever. I'm curious to hear if it has happened to any of you. I've never had an issue with it before, which makes me wonder if a) Fanfiction is buckling down on that kind of thing, or b) someone reported me. Oh well. I'm not going to hold a grudge. End rant.

Here is the next chapter. I put part of it from Damon's perspective, trying out something new, so hopefully you all like that. I hope you all fully enjoy it. Thank you for being such faithful readers and reviewers. Reviews are ever welcome :)

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part _seven_

.**.**

_Closing in... I hope that you make it._  
_Closing in... I hope that you find your way._  
_Closing in... its all that I want in the whole world._  
_Closing in... please be there, please be there._

_..**.** _

"Elena."

"No."

"My back doesn't have spikes growing out of it," Damon groans, rubbing his forehead.

"I just, I-" Elena stutters, biting her lower lip and wincing at it snags on the tips of one of the fangs buried in her gums. "Isn't there a seatbelt or something?"

Damon gives her a "are-you-kidding-me" look, his eyes staying locked on her face until she blushes and has to look away. Her eyes flicker dimly as they glance towards the floor and her cheeks deflate as a long sigh exits her body, leaving her cheeks hollow and pale. Seconds later, Elena straightens, a smile blooming on her lips, stretched much too far too be real.

"Do I look like a car?" Damon asks at last, choosing to ignore her physical symptoms for the time, knowing that it will only embarrass Elena and earn him a few weak punches. He flings his hand up in resignation. "I mean, I know that you want to ride me, but-"

"Shut up," Elena snaps, turning bright red. "I just-"

He chuckles, holding out his hand and waiting for Elena to take it. When she continues to hover away from his outstretched palm, Damon frowns. "I already told you that you don't have to be scared of me."

Slowly, Elena shakes her head. Damon can see colorful memories playing out in her eyes, things she has claimed to let go of but never truly will.

"Elena," Damon says, brow furrowing. "Have you ever let anyone but Stefan carry you while you travel at a supernatural speed?" He pauses. "Willingly. Klaus doesn't count."

"I chose him, Damon," Elena mumbles, her voice almost too faint to hear. "It's always going to be Stefan."

"I know," Damon answers, watching her fold in on herself. _It's always going to be Stefan_. She uses the words like a safety blanket, too scared to peel out from behind them and face the world head on. From the state of her eyes, Elena still seems to be trapped in the midst of a memory from long ago when everything was rainbows and sunshine with Stefan. Watching her suffer like this, silently, is one of the worst things Elena can allow him to go through. "Come on, Elena," he adds gently, reaching out for her hand. Elena lets him pull her closer.

"Where are we going?" Elena asks him, arching her eyebrows.

He smiles at her persistence, pulling her closer until their faces are only a few inches apart. Then he leans forward, his smile widening as she shivers, and whispers, "I have no idea. But do you honestly think I'd tell you even if I did know?"

Elena clamps her hands down on his wrists, and Damon half expects her to pull away and tell him to screw himself. He imagines the familiar frustration on her face as she explains to him that it is always going to be Stefan. "Are you trying to make some kind of point?" she asks instead, her voice troubled.

Inhaling slowly and briefly noting their proximity, the way in which Elena has shifted her weight and allowed them to remain so close to one another, Damon asks, "And what point would that be?"

Elena's lips part, the words halting at the tip of her tongue. A flush creeps across her face, lighting it up astoundingly bright. "Let's go," she mutters at last, touching her forehead and wincing. Damon can see her fingers trembling with the effort. She's much weaker than she is letting on.

"Still scared of riding me?" Damon teases, turning so that his back is facing her. He can practically feel Elena rolling her eyes behind him.

"You'll never stop, will you?" Elena asks softly, wrapping her arms loosely about his neck and fitting her face in between his shoulder-blades. She sighs into his black t-shirt, wriggling about until she feels a little more comfortable. Her eyelids flutter, threatening to close, but shoot open quickly when Damon grabs her legs and hoists them up about his waist. "Give a girl a warning, would you?" she grumbles, snuggling closer into his back and deciding that it isn't fair how utterly comfortable it is to lie her like this.

"Sorry," Damon says under his breath, turning around as she yawns.

His blue eyes pierce her. She hasn't seen them so warm and tender since they rested together on his bed counting down his last moments, since she slid over and kissed him just to keep his eyes open for one more minute, just one more minute. Elena had never allowed herself to think about that night, other than in its barest form, but if she were honest, she would say that she kissed Damon to keep him here with her. That, and she'd been thinking about his lips a little too much and hadn't been able to help herself. Had it been instinct, or premeditated? She doesn't know.

"You can rest, you know," Damon says.

Elena jumps, tearing her eyes away from his face and trying not to blush again as she realizes that she's been staring at him.

"Not tired," she answers quickly, refusing to look at him.

"Don't worry," Damon teases, "you weren't drooling. You were only staring creepily into my eyes, like you were trying to suck my soul out or something."

Digging her fingernails into his shoulder, Elena glares at the dark haired Salvatore. "Are we going to go or not?" she grumbles.

"Raunchy," Damon says, barking a laugh. "Didn't pinpoint you for the "put-it-in" kind of girl. But if you insist..."

"You know what I meant, Damon," Elena mumbles, unable to keep from smiling. She buries her face into his back, trying to surpress her flushing cheeks. It is beginning to hurt.

"Alright, alright," Damon says. She closes her eyes, freezing just a little as his fingers ghost over her left hand and tangle with hers for just a moment. Then she smiles.

It doesn't even feel like they're moving. Everything is still, save for the breeze blowing through Elena's hair. Cracking open one eye, Elena prepares to ask Damon why the hell he's sitting here and getting off by having her on his back, when she realizes that they _are_, in fact, moving. She gasps, tightening her hold about Damon's neck and watching the colors blurring around her like a fleeting rainbow.

"You okay?" Damon grunts, tracing her thumb with his own until she stops shaking.

Elena nods against the back of his neck, taking a deep breath. "Yeah," she answers cautiously after a pause. "I just- whenever I would do this with Stefan, he always wanted me to keep my eyes closed."

"Ah," Damon says, chuckling sarcastically. "My brother, ever the over-protective den mother."

"He meant well," Elena argues, trying to defend the man whom she gave her heart to last year. No matter what has happened between them, she would never bash Stefan, especially not in Damon's presence.

"Of course he did. He always does," Damon says, glancing back at her. "But see, Stefan forgets that sometimes even humans need to live." Elena watches how the breeze tosses his dark hair in every direction and smiles at the messy state in which it is left. Damon smiles back at her, dropping his bitterly sarcastic act for a moment. "Elena," he breathes.

Elena's breath catches in her chest. "Damon," she begins, unable to help herself. She has always pushed him away. This is their game.

Damon shakes his head, silently telling her that he's not trying to seduce her or attempting to change her mind. "Look around," he whispers.

She does. Suddenly, Elena isn't sure how to breathe. Below them, Damon's feet blur a beautiful pattern of midnight blue, sapphire and silver, blending so effortlessly against the soft green grass. If she focuses enough, Elena can make out the outline of trees bending in the wake of Damon's speed, sending jade petals spinning free. Overhead, the sky and clouds mold into an unimaginable range of colors, spinning and guiding them forward. Thousands of smells invade her senses, overwhelming her and making her face open up. Her hair dances with a handful of rose petals, tangling and greeting. The faster they move, the closer the stars seem to appear, shining gloriously down and casting a silvery-gold edge to the craggy mountains ahead of them. It is all so sensual, so indescribable. Elena's tongue dries up in her throat, ties itself into knots.

Damon's eyes trace her face, trying to gauge her reaction, so blue that it hurts. This is beauty. _He_ is beauty. This is...this is...she can't begin to think about it. All Elena knows is that there is nothing monstrous about this. All of this is simply beautiful.

"Well?" Damon asks, though from the satisfied, tender expression on his face, it seems that he doesn't really need to ask. He can read her face well enough.

"I- I," Elena stutters, unable to think of a good place to begin or end. "Why didn't Stefan show me any of this?"

"Because you weren't ready for it," Damon answers. His fingers tighten around hers, and suddenly he looks sad again. "How could you ever see just how beautiful and priceless life is until you were preparing to die?"

It's hard to swallow. Elena can feel tears stinging the back of her eyes.

"I want to show you something," Damon says, apparently not expecting an answer to his earlier question.

"What's that?" Elena croaks.

Damon slows to a jog and then stops. Gingerly, Elena slides down, swaying on her feet as soon as she hits the ground. Damon snakes a hand around her waist, keeping her upright, and Elena pretends to ignore it. They have to address the little touches, the long stares, the quick glances at each others' lips soon enough, but now is not the time. When she looks up at Damon, Elena jumps in surprise. His face looks sunken, drawn with misery and past regrets that he can't fix.

"Damon," Elena murmers, taking his hand.

He looks down, allowing her to slide her fingers through his.

"I want to tell you about my mother," Damon says, keeping his face emotionless. She can see the torture in his eyes, however. "Consider this a part of your bucket list."

"A part of my bucket list?" Elena asks, confused.

"You don't think I heard you asking about my mother to Stefan whenever you spent the night in his bed?" Damon asks, smiling tightly.

Elena flushes once again. "That's none of your business."

"Isn't it?" Damon asks, pulling her forward past the shelter of the ancient tree behind them. In the distance, there is the sound of crickets chirping and bullfrogs croaking. Wasps buzz near to the ground, dancing about her ankles. Elena kicks them away, scared that one of them might sting her. She's hated them ever since she was a little kid.

"Be honest," Elena says, squeezing his hand. "Why do you want me to know about your mother? You never found it necessary before." She allows him to lead her past the row of oak trees in front of them stretching towards the skies. Everything is so quiet here. Save the sound of their feet crunching against bits of bark, and the cry of a lone crow, there is nothing. To both sides, a faint mist glimmers in the darkness, and in front of them, Elena can make out the outline of what appears to be a sign.

"It wasn't necessary when you were hell-bent on living," Damon mutters.

"That's not it," Elena insists. "You wouldn't trust me with it before. Why now?" As much as she is afraid of hearing Damon tell her just how much he loves her, another part of her quivers with anticipation. But he doesn't answer like she expects.

"Because she's the reason I chose to turn," Damon says grimly.

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to be continued

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	8. viii

καταναλωτής

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**a/n**: Wow, guys, this is the longest chapter I've ever written and I hope you like it. The story isn't over, by the way. You'll just have to see what happens, won't you? Please review, guys. They really do make my day, and inspire me to write more.

**.**

part _eight_

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_You know you can't keep letting it get you down,_  
_And you can't keep dragging that dead weight around,_  
_If there ain't all that much to lug around,_  
_Better run like hell when you hit the ground._

_When the morning comes. When the morning comes._

..**.**

"Why are we here?" Elena asks softly, still holding onto Damon's hand.

They move forward one foot at a time, one thought at a time. Elena can make out the smooth surface of water further up to the right. In front of the them, the worn sign reads _One Night Only_ in curly script. The trees fade away, leaving a clearing with churned dirt and patches of green-brown weeds crawling across the earth. A structure resembling an old ferris wheel groans at the far end of the clearing, held in place by ropes stretching between the trees. Several canvas tops with faded colors lie on the ground in various spots, pinned down by rusty poles that used to hold them aloft.

"This is where my parents met," Damon says, heading for the remains of a brick wall. Elena sits down beside him, wrapping her arms around herself as a cold wind picks up, blowing through and sending dust flying. "Everyone thought that the first ferris wheel was invented by George W. Ferris in 1893, but it actually started with little carnivals such as these. They weren't named ferris wheels, of course, but they'd already been invented. George only selfishly named them after himself."

"Mankind will do anything for power," Elena mutters, smiling slightly. She looks around her, still kind of in awe. "How is any of this still here?"

Damon shrugs, "Part of it is the architecture. The support system was built in such a way that allowed the structure to remain somewhat stable even if it wasn't useable." He points towards the base of the ferris wheel, where the planks are criss-crossed tightly and buried into the ground.

"And the duct tape?" Elena asks, snorting as she notices it wrapped around the wooden beams.

Damon smiles, but it is hollow. "Duct tape can fix anything," he jokes weakly.

"Have people been trying to fix it?" Elena asks, standing up and heading towards it. She doesn't make it two seconds before stumbling and feeling her legs give out on her. It is only Damon's hand that keeps her from falling down. Her cheeks begin to burn with resentment towards death. More than anything, she hates being weak.

"Obviously," Damon answers, pulling her upright. "Myself being one of them."

"Really?" Elena asks, picturing Damon out here piecing together the ride which reminds him of his mother. The thought is touching. "Did Stefan help you?"

"No," Damon says shortly. "Stefan hardly remembers our mother. He doesn't have any reason to be out here."

"You're out here. Isn't supporting you reason enough?" Elena wonders.

"Not every sibling feels an acute calling to support their brother or sister," Damon remarks in frustration. "Not everyone can be like you, Elena."

"You can," Elena says simply. She goes to touch his hand, but Damon pulls away. "You said your parents met here?" she asks, trying to change the subject and hide how hurt she is by his coldness.

Damon nods, leading her past the wooden wheel and towards the shimmering water ahead. The ground slopes down, surrounded by tufts of grass and scraggly bushes. The moon casts a peaceful light over the ripples in the miniature lake.

"I kind of want to take my shoes off and run alongside the water," Elena muses when Damon still doesn't pipe up.

"Then why don't you?" Damon asks. There is a hint of a smile in his eyes.

Elena chokes on a laugh. "This isn't one of those Nicholas Sparks movies," she mumbles, taking off her shoes anyways and gathering them in her left hand. The bubbling water feels soothing against her bare toes.

"You remind me of my mom," Damon says.

Elena shoots him a surprised look, blushing slightly. "Is that a good thing?"

Damon nods quickly, stating, "She was a great woman, passionate about her decisions and always afraid that she was loving everyone just a little too much." A laugh escapes him, but it isn't a happy one. "My father would never admit that he missed her after she was gone, but he did. I heard him crying over his cup of wine every odd night."

"She sounds special," Elena tells him gently, hesitating. "How did they meet here?"

A real smile lights up Damon's face this time as he digs up the memory. "It was 1850. My father had hired the men to come here," he said, eyes narrowing as he tries to remember the details. Something tells Elena that he hasn't allowed himself to think about the memory in a long time, though it's burned into his retinas. "There was a lot of tension going on. Every conversation rotated around the issue of slavery. My father did not have any personal issues with it, which made it all the more amusing when he met my mother and fell in love with her." Damon takes Elena's hand again, the motion subconscious. She can feel his fingernails digging into her skin.

"My mother was helping slaves escape," Damon continues, his face beginning to smooth out. "The only reason she attended the carnival that night was to rescue the slaves whose masters were distracted by the ferris wheel and other frivolities. She was sitting over there." He points to the brick wall they had been seated at just a moment before. "At the time, there was a dirt path behind the brick wall leading to a few homes up in the hills. The owners were helping smuggle slaves over the mountains closer to the North. My mother would sneak them to the homes. Once they reached the coast, they would board ships that would take them to safety."

"And she was doing it right under your father's nose," Elena comments, kicking up some mud with her right foot. It lands in the water with a _splash_. "That reminds me of some of the things you've done."

"My mother and I shared a lot of traits," Damon acknowledges. "I think my mother found great joy in being able to keep secrets from one of the most feared men in town. She seemed to be the only one who wasn't afraid of him. Maybe that's why he fell in love with her." He shrugs. "Either way, she didn't expect to be discovered that night. She was sitting there, reading _Uncle Tom's Cabin_, when my father came up to her and asked why she would be reading such trash."

"What did she say?" Elena wonders. They come to a stop.

"She said that the best things always seem to happen right under one's nose, and she'd rather be privy to it than living in self-afflicted blindness." Damon chuckles, swinging their hands back and forth. Elena isn't sure why she hasn't torn her hand away yet, only that maybe it's okay to leave it there for the time being, nestled in his. "My father was instantly struck by her intelligence. Yet, when he asked what her name was, my mother told him to go screw himself, using the language of the day, of course."

"What was her name?" Elena asks, struck by how lovely Damon's laugh sounds right now. It isn't tainted by pain or frustration. He sounds sort of like Stefan in the first few days that she knew the younger Salvatore brother.

"Marian," Damon says gently, the name rolling perfectly off his tongue. "But after awhile, it was shortened to Mary."

Elena smiles, "Their story sounds like a Nicholas Sparks novel. Why are you so upset about it?"

Damon's whole demeanor shifts from calm to tense. His shoulders roll back and he releases Elena's hand. She feels her breathing cut off as the veins creep under his eyes, beginning to seep through the skin but not quite reaching their destination. _What did I say_, she wonders briefly, terror quickly cutting off all rational thought. The change is startlingly fast, only making it all the more terrifying. Damon growls, his breathing heavy, and Elena stands captivated as Damon struggles to retain his humanity. The veins begin to retract as his fangs slowly slip behind his lips.

"Damon," she breathes after a long pause. Taking a few steps back, Elena watches him straighten up and wipe his face.

"I want to kill him," Damon hisses in a voice so very cold. "I want to rip his _fucking heart_ out." He turns, his eyes boring into her, glazed with crimson.

"Who are you talking about?" Elena whispers, wrapping her arms around herself. She goes to take another step back, fighting the urge to run away, but her legs give out on her and she crumples on the ground, pain exploding across her chest and head. Groaning, she curls into a ball and peeks through narrowed eyes up at Damon as he stalks towards her. "Damon, please-"

"We don't know who convinced her to turn," Damon is mumbling, tears of rage slipping down his cheeks. His hands curl into fists. "One day she was just lying in bed surrounded by blood and bodies torn to bits on the floor." He watches Elena shudder and nothing good or kind crosses his face, only pure hatred. Pure pain. "She was going to be okay. She would have been _fine_. She was learning how to control it." One of his hands digs into his face, scraping the skin as it travels down.

"What happened, Damon?" Elena asks, unable to keep from crying. Stefan was never this bad. This isn't a ripper. This is worse than a monster.

"He fucking _hacked her to bits_," Damon roars, lumbering towards her. He goes to reach out with one hand, then freezes, memories playing behind his own eyes this time. "Stefan was so little. I was just a kid. But I saw it. My father didn't love her enough to keep her alive. He couldn't have loved her. How could he take an axe to her if he loved her?" Terror breaks across his face, followed by more tears. The red glaze begins to disappear, leaving behind the shine of tears. "I heard her screaming and I couldn't move. I should have done something. I should have-"

"Damon," Elena whispers through her tears, reaching out for him. He leans away from her, but she can see the tension leaving his shoulders, leaving his body limp. "It wasn't your fault, Damon." When he still doesn't respond, she asks, "Is that why you turned? To prove to your father that you could control it?"

"I want to kill him," Damon mutters through his clenched hands. "I want to hurt him like he hurt her."

"He's not here, Damon," Elena murmers. Her legs hurt too much to move. "He's dead. You don't have to worry about him anymore."

Damon looks up at her, his face pale. "Why are you here?" he groans. "You said you chose Stefan. Go back to him. At least he'll keep you safe."

Elena sits up just enough to meet his gaze. Blood trickles from a tiny cut on the side of her forehead. "If you hadn't noticed," she answers fiercely, "I'm here with you. I want to be here with _you_. I'm not going anywhere, Damon."

Damon sits there for a minute, just breathing. Elena presses her hand to the cut and winces.

"She fed from me," Damon says faintly after a moment. "My mother called me to her one day and asked me if I wanted to help her. Of course I said yes. She kissed my neck, but it wasn't like a normal kiss. It hurt, and then it felt better than anything I've ever felt before, except for-" he cuts off, giving her a quick glance bursting with guilt. Lifting a hand up, he pulls back his hair and reveals two pale puncture marks on his neck. "I didn't know about vampires or anything. I didn't know that I was helping her transition." Damon wipes at his face, banishing the tears. "When Stefan told me that I should turn, I was thinking of her. I felt that, by drinking from me, my mother had left some part of her alive in me and more than anything I wanted to keep her there with me. So I turned."

Elena takes a few deep, gulping breaths, trying to rid the ringing feeling in her eardrums. "Oh God," she whimpers, more tears trickling down her face. "God, Damon." Before she realizes it, she is in Damon's arms and he is rocking them back and forth, whispering nonsense in her ear. But he doesn't get it. Damon just thinks that she is afraid of him, which is hardly true. Elena is only scared of the monster that appears whenever Damon is out of control, but even that is not enough to drive her away. No, she isn't upset about that.

Damon's hand strokes down the side of her waist, sending flames trickling up her skin. Elena's hand cups his cheek and she turns his face until he is looking at her. The area under his eyes is puffy and red and his sapphire eyes are glimmering much too brightly to handle. Her lips press into his jaw, then into his cheek, hesitating there. She can't make them move any further. But she doesn't need to.

"You lied," Damon breathes. She feels a tear roll down his cheek and meld against hers.

"What about?" Elena whispers back, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"About choosing Stefan," Damon says.

He didn't. Not now.

"I did choose Stefan," Elena insists, trying to look away. Damon's hand latches onto her jaw.

"Your mind chose Stefan," Damon murmers into the hollow of her throat, his nose tracing down her neck as his lips leave little kisses.

"Wh- what's the problem then?" Elena stutters.

Damon lifts his head back up, leaning in until their lips are nearly touching. "Your heart chose me," he says slowly, simply, like he's always known. His eyelashes flutter while his eyes burn with a hope so bright that Elena can't look away. His lips touch her jaw, then the side of her nose and the area just above her lips. Elena feels like she is going to pass out. Everything hurts. Everything burns. She feels utterly consumed and-

The blare of Elena's cellphone interrupts them. _Every damn time_, she thinks, reaching into her pocket and holding up the device.

"It's Stefan," she murmers, still feeling a little woozy from the sensation of Damon's lips against her throat, the burn of her lips where his had touched moments ago.

"Ignore it," Damon mumbles, kissing her throat again.

"Damon," Elena rasps guiltily as the phone buzzes for the fourth time, "I can't. I love him too and I have to-" she cuts off, not sure where she's going with that. "Can I, um, talk to him alone?"

Slowly, Damon nods, his eyes darkening as he slowly rises to his feet, fingers trailing over her own. The look he's giving her isn't anger so much as frustration, frustration that comes with the knowledge that she'll never really be able to choose between them. As he slips into the shadows, Elena presses the _Answer_ button on her phone and presses it to her ear, "Hey."

"Where are you? Are you okay?" Cue mother hen number two. Sometimes he's just like Caroline.

"I'm fine," Elena reassures him, choosing not to mention how badly her stomach is aching, how hard it is to breathe, how she keeps seeing stars. It would only make him worry and Stefan is far enough away that he can't really do anything. As much as she'd like to see him, it wouldn't do to have the brothers around each other, especially with everything going on with Damon. She doesn't even know how to begin explaining that. "Listen, Stefan. I'm really glad you called."

"How could I not?" Stefan answers. "I love you." She can picture him smiling, decked out in a golden halo as he professes his love, but all she hears is promises long passed. When did loving him become the safe option?

"I love you too," Elena says, more a habit than anything. But right now, she needs it to be simple, like things were when they first started dating and the world became bright again. She doesn't need to feel confused right now, especially with what she is about to tell him. "Stefan, do you believe in heaven?"

"What do you believe?" He's always trying to please her, to mold his opinion around her own.

"Call me cliche, but I'd like to believe there are angels flying around with puffy wings and harps," Elena says with a little laugh. She thinks she hears a distinctive male voice mumbling _"call me cliche, my darling prince charming, you"_ from the forest's edge, but chooses to ignore it.

"Just for you, there will be," Stefan says. "Elena, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Elena whispers, already figuring what he's about to ask. Her chin begins to wobble before the words even leave his mouth, followed by an ache in her chest. It knocks the breath out of her, leaving her clawing at the ground.

"Couldn't you choose to live?" Stefan wonders softly, his pleas heartbreaking. "You could stay here and we could love each other. I could teach you how to avoid humans, how to stay on a diet of rabbit blood. It would be safe, I promise." _Safe_. That's what Stefan doesn't understand. Taking a deep breath, Elena looks across the clearing, towards the crumbling brick wall and the edge of the forest, catching the attention of brilliant blue eyes.

_"You wouldn't be my best friend anymore." _

_"I just, I can't - love isn't supposed to be about controlling someone's decisions, Stefan."_

_"Tell me that everything is going to be okay." "I can't do that."_

_"I felt that, by drinking from me, my mother had left some part of her alive in me and more than anything I wanted to keep her there with me. So I turned."_

Swallowing past the tears, Elena says, "I'm sorry, Stefan, but I can't."

Across the clearing, Damon's face falls.

"Elena, please," Stefan begs. She hasn't heard him this broken since they were forced to break up with each other the first time. She hasn't felt so tortured since the evening her parents were killed.

"Listen to me," Elena pleads, trying to keep her voice soft. Her eyes remain locked on Damon's face, trying to read him, but he's slammed a wall over his emotions to protect himself. "Stefan, please, just listen for a minute, okay?" She takes Stefan's silence as a cue to keep talking. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, I really do, but it won't be safe, no matter how much I wish it could be."

"I could make it safe," Stefan cuts in.

"Shh," Elena answers. "You probably could, but that's not _me_. Do you understand? I already live blindly, recklessly, needing to be consumed by life and love. That's what I _need_. And I-" she pauses to swallow again, the tears filling her eyes. "If I became a vampire, I wouldn't be able to hold myself back. I'd want to fully experience it, I'd want to be me, fully me, and I'd _hurt_ people."

"You wouldn't hurt people," Stefan tries to interrupt again.

"Stefan," Elena mumbles, tears streaking down her pale cheeks. "You turned because Damon asked you to and because some part of you wanted to be with Katherine. Damon turned for you and his mother."

"You're with-"

"It's not important who I'm with," Elena snaps. "Stefan, the main reason I'd turn is to be consumed by the full powers of a vampire. I'd want to experience it all and with the life I have now, that would be impossible."

"You could go away," Stefan suggests weakly.

Elena shakes her head, inhaling shakily, "And be away from all of you? I couldn't do that. But that's not even it, Stefan. No matter how much I love all of you, I just don't think this is right. I never thought it was right. I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but I'm going to die. Please, just please accept that."

She can't hear him crying, but knows he is all the same. He's just trying to keep the sobs quiet so she won't feel guilty.

"I'm glad you called," Elena says, a sob rattling in her chest. "I needed to tell you goodbye."

"Tell Damon that the agreement is off," Stefan answers after a long pause. His voice is shaky. "I know you're somewhere with him."

"Okay," Elena says, knowing that it won't do any good to lie about where she is. "Stefan, I-"

"Just don't," Stefan sighs. He doesn't sound happy, but she wouldn't expect him to be. "He's my brother, Elena. We talked about it all the time. As much as I'd like it to be like it used to, just you and me, it can't. He loves you and I - I see the way you look at him, even if you won't admit it to me or anyone else, even yourself."

"Would you believe me if I said that I loved both of you?" Elena asks faintly. Fresh tears bud in her eyes as the phone shakes in her hand.

"Of course I would," Stefan answers, sounding so peaceful, so non-judgmental, that Elena is reminded just why she chose him to begin with. "If you didn't love him, you would have agreed to be with me a long time ago. But if you just loved him, then you wouldn't have waited for me even when I was determined to forget all about you and my humanity."

"Thank you," Elena says. She watches with growing sadness as Damon's shadowy figure slumps against the base of a tree. "I need to go to him now, Stefan." She doesn't have to say a name. Stefan knows that she's talking about his brother.

There is a hitch in his breathing. "Goodbye, Elena," he whispers. "Put in a good word with God for me."

She chokes on a half-sob, half-giggle, "I love you, Stefan." The dial tone is the only answer, and Elena wonders if Stefan even heard her. But she can't focus on that now, not when Damon is crouched on the roots of the tree with eyes that he's desperately trying to hide.

"Damon," Elena calls out, dropping the phone to the ground as she takes a step towards the other Salvatore brother.

He says nothing, just rising to his feet and striding towards her. She can see his eyes gleaming, the lower eyelashes wet.

"I'm sorry I-"

"Don't apologize," Damon grunts, pulling her roughly into him. She doesn't care if his hands leave bruises or not.

When their lips finally touch, Elena doesn't feel sparks, not like with Stefan. She doesn't feel fireworks. Instead, a slow burn climbs up her toes, legs, groin, waist, chest and torso, burning higher every inch that it ascends. A hunger surges into her heart and her lips latch onto his, demanding more. Damon pulls her into him, satisfying the urge, initiating another. She needs more. She needs all of him. Gasping into his mouth, Elena tries to pull away, to retain rational thought, but he won't let her. She doesn't even want to.

"I love you," Elena breathes against his lips as their kisses slow, become sweeter.

"Of course you do," Damon answers.

She hits his chest. "Don't be a jack-ass."

"I'm not," he says. "I'm just being me."

Elena's lips touch his once more, lingering, tasting. Tears scorch her eyes as he slides his fingers through hers and lifts her up, leading her towards one of the canopies by the lake. The moonlight reflects the bare skin of his back beautifully. Damon doesn't ask whether it is okay to guide her over, to lie her down and press kisses along her collarbone, his tongue worshiping her. He doesn't wonder if she'll breathe his name like a prayer, over and over. He doesn't worry about her reaction as she traces the fresh wounds on his face, the scars across his body. He doesn't second-guess the way that their fingers tighten together, resting in the grass above the canopy as they move, becoming one. He just knows that she will let him have his goodbye.

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to be continued

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	9. ix

καταναλωτής

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**a/n**: I got several reviews (thank you for them, by the way) saying _"Elena can't die"_ and let me reassure you that once you read through the end of this chapter, you might not be despairing quite so much. I'm flattered that you care so much about my story though. Really, I am. Keep it up, everyone. The fun is just beginning (:

I tried out a different perspective for this chapter. It gets the ball rolling. I hope you don't mind a lack of Delena. The next chapter will make up for it.

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part _nine_

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_"You hate me, huh? That sounds like the beginning of a love story, Stefan, not_ _the end of one."_

_..._

"Can you help me?" Bonnie asks quietly from the darkened stairwell. She runs a shaky hand over her tangled hair and tries to smile. "He - um, I can't get him to come out of his room."

Caroline turns slowly from her crouched position on the couch. She is no longer crying, but there is still the residue of makeup on her pale face. Her eyes flicker dimly. "You're asking me for help?" she croaks, fingering the charmed necklace Tyler had taken to wearing while he was off changing one-hundred times in the mountains. Supposedly, it had been spelled by a witch in that district to help Tyler break through Klaus' compulsion, and is now nothing more than a trinket. But it's the closest thing she has to Tyler.

Bonnie's face tightens. "I never claimed to be all-knowing," she mumbles.

"I'm sorry," Caroline apologizes immediately, rising up off the couch and looking around the room. It is far too quiet here without Elena or either of the Salvatore brothers. "I just - he loves you, so I thought -" She stops, takes a deep breath and forces a smile. "Where is he?"

Bonnie echoes her smile. "Upstairs in his room," she says, walking slowly over to the couch and sitting down. Slumping down, she buries her face in her hands and mumbles, "He keeps waiting for Alaric to update him on what's going on. He won't listen to me."

"But Alaric is-" Caroline begins, cutting off. "Oh, right. Ghost stuff." She goes to head up the stairs when she hears the unmistakable sound of crying coming from the couch where Bonnie is sitting. The witch's shoulders are shaking with the force of her sobs, her face burrowed in her palms. "Oh Bonnie," she says gently, hurrying back to her friend's side and pulling the girl into her arms. Bonnie clings tightly to the blonde's shoulders, her nails digging in. "Shh. It's okay. Shh."

"It's my fault," Bonnie whimpers.

"What's your fault?" Caroline asks, rubbing the girl's back.

Bonnie takes a deep breath, lifting her head up as she does. She looks so weary, so defeated, with her eyes edged in tears. "Jeremy is up there bursting into tears every five minutes and I don't know what to say to make him feel better, because I'm the one who did this."

"Hey," Caroline says, "how could this possibly be your fault, Bonnie? This is _Elena's_ choice." She continues to rub Bonnie's back, mumbling reassurances into her ear.

Bonnie shakes her head. "No," she mutters. "No, it is, because I - because I told Elena that if she turned, she would be a monster. I told her that she wouldn't be my best friend anymore, because she'd be one of _them_. The look she gave me...Caroline, I didn't mean any of that. I was just scared and I've always been told that the vampires are no friends to the witches." She pauses, more tears filling her eyes. Her thin frame shakes. "She's one of my best friends, Care. Im don't want her dead."

"Shh, it's okay," Caroline says, hugging Bonnie tighter. "It's not your fault okay?" she whispers, half to herself. Images of Tyler's broken body fill her mind and it takes everything within her not to fall apart. _One day at a time_. "It's not your fault. I'm sure Elena doesn't blame you."

"I just...need some time to myself," Bonnie says slowly, her face hollow. "I'll be fine."

"Why don't you go give a few vampires those migraine things," Caroline suggests with one of her bright smiles, trying to be happy for her friend. "You love to do that."

Bonnie laughs slightly. "Maybe," she says, giving Caroline a last hug. "Thank you."

"I'll go talk to Jeremy now," Caroline says, patting Bonnie on the back as she gets up and heads for the stairwell. As she climbs, her fingers dance across the beads on Tyler's necklace. A lump grows in her throat. _There's no way you can be dead_, she thinks, still feeling quite numb about it all. _Come out, come out, wherever you are._

Jeremy is sitting on the right side of his bed, near the headboard, his eyes narrowed in on the open window. A breeze wisps through, sending Caroline's curls flying. It rustles the edge of the covers on the bed and sends a few papers with Alaric's name on them in italic spinning in the middle of the room. "Did Bonnie send you in?" Jeremy asks quietly, giving her a quick look burning with fear and stubbornness.

Caroline nods. "She was a little too upset to try again," she says, moving until she's standing at the foot of the bed. "You're worrying her."

"Me?" Jeremy asks incredulously. "_Me?_ You're seriously going with that?" He laughs, unamused, angry. "Elena's the one out there trying to kill herself, and you're all worried about me. Wow." He shakes his head, eyes darting to check the stairwell, maybe to see if Bonnie's coming back up after all.

"Don't be a jackass," Caroline retorts, pointing her finger at him. Understandably, Jeremy leans back a little bit. "There isn't a way to reach Elena right now, and you're sitting here talking to a frickin' ghost and pushing everyone away, so I'd say you're about all we can handle right now."

He says nothing. Smart boy.

"Now look," Caroline snaps, crouching next to him, her voice dripping with heat and pain. "You've got a living, breathing person down there who cares about you, and you're treating her like dirt. Didn't your parents raise you better?"

"My parents are _dead_," Jeremy growls.

"So do their memories a favor and act like the young man they raised you to be," Caroline hisses, staring at Jeremy for a long time until finally he jerks his head away, nodding quickly. She sighs. "When is Alaric supposed to be here?"

"He's right there," Jeremy remarks, pointing to the area behind them.

"Oh." Caroline turns around, half expecting to see Rick's familiar crooked grin. All she sees is empty space. "Did he like my rant?" she asks Jeremy with a little smile of her own, determined to make everyone around here stop moping.

Jeremy pauses, apparently listening. Then he smiles. "He says that your passion was good, but your vocabulary could use some work."

She shakes her head. "Always slamming on my vocab," she mumbles under her breath. "Does he have any news on Elena?"

Jeremy listens again, his face draining of color quickly. "He says - he says that Elena's chosen to die." His lower lip wobbles and he flings himself into a standing position, hands in tight fists. "She can't die. She wouldn't - _how could she do this to me_?"

Caroline takes a step back, still running the words through her head. _Even after all this, Elena thinks that we're monsters_. It's a poisonous thought, one she dismisses immediately when she sees the expression on Jeremy's face. The boy has crawled into a tiny ball on his bed, his hands hugging his pillow as he cries. Now is not the time to get upset about Elena's decision, though Caroline doesn't understand why Elena couldn't at least call and tell her own brother. Now is the time to comfort Jeremy.

"Still talking to ghosts," a familiar voice sneers from the doorway. "I always knew the Gilberts were crazy. I just didn't think it had gotten this bad."

Caroline whirls around, her hand leaving Jeremy's shoulder. "What do you want?" she growls.

"Now, now, calm down," the person answers, smirking.

"I'm not in the mood to play games," Caroline threatens, the veins beginning to sink under her eyes.

The figure laughs, crossing their arms. "Is that any way to treat the person who wants to help you save Elena's life?"

"Why do you need our help?" Caroline asks, keeping her posture tense as she glares at the person across from them, the person she'd assumed dead. She doesn't believe that they actually want to help Elena, but while they're here, may as well keep them talking.

The person smiles, chilling, powerful. "Because Elena won't listen if I'm the one calling."

"Why would I call Elena?" Caroline wonders, feeling irritatingly idiotic.

The figure's smile widens. Behind Caroline, Jeremy shivers, choking on a sob as he tries to stay brave. If she squints closely enough, Caroline can make out the outline of Bonnie's form hidden in the shadows down the hall, rifling through a spellbook.

"Who else is going to tell Elena that her brother has been murdered?" The figure asks.

Before Caroline can move, there is a blur, a quick gust of air, and the figure plunges a splintered stake into Jeremy's heart. As they laugh, Jeremy's scream echoes around the room. His eyes roll back as blood begins to seep from the wound. The figure bends down, lapping at his blood and humming contentedly. Their fingers brush over his blood stained ring.

"Pity," the person croons, swiping their tongue around their bloody lips. "I was hoping he'd stay dead this time."

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to be continued

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	10. x

καταναλωτής

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**a/n**: Almost 140 reviews already...I honestly cannot believe it. And now we've reached double digits with _Part Ten_. It made me laugh to see how you guys were guessing who the person might be, brought a smile to my face too. You'll see a lot of the person in the next chapter, and Elena's fate will also be determined in the worst cliffhanger of all history! - evil laugh- But this chapter will have drama all its own. If you review a bunch, I will update faster. (:

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part _ten_

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_"Elena, it's time to get up," her mother calls from downstairs. _

"Mmm." _Elena moans into her pillow_. "Uhhhh...five more minutes."

_"Elena," her mom calls again, walking slowly up the stairs just in case Elena decides to get smart and slide out of bed. When she peers around the doorway, however, Elena is more entangled with her blankets than before. "Hey, what's up?"_

"Five more minutes," _Elena grumbles again, burrowing further into the covers._

_"Is this about the party tonight?" Her mom asks. Elena says nothing. "I thought you were looking forward to that." When Elena still doesn't respond, her mom crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, patting Elena's toes under the covers. "Oh wait. No. This is about Matt."_

"Mommmm," _Elena groans, trying to cover her ears. She really doesn't want to deal with this right now. _

_"You're thinking about breaking up with him," her mom guesses. Elena shrugs. "If that's your choice, then stick with it. If you're not happy with him, then you need to be able to say something. _

"I don't want to hurt him," _Elena mumbles almost inaudibly. She twists to look at her mom, smiling sadly._

_"You can't always control who gets hurt and who doesn't," her mom says, reaching out to ruffle her daughter's hair. "Now perk up. You're too young to get all frowny on me. Wait for a mid-life crisis." Sliding off the bed, her mom smiles brightly and adds, "If you want, you can join me and Jeremy downstairs. I made chocolate chip pancakes."_

_Elena smiles instantly. Her mom always knows what to do to cheer her up_. "Hey mom?"

_"Yes?" Her mom turns around immediately, giving her daughter a questioning look. Her dark hair waves perfectly around her face, as it has always done. She's so beautiful and able to brighten up their house with little more than a smile. She's hardly ever frowning. Looking at her mother now, at the soft glow of sunshine in her bedroom, Elena knows that she wouldn't change anything for all the money in the world. This, right here, is where she wants to be._

"I love you," _Elena says, sliding out of bed and running into her mother's arms._

_"I love you too," her mom breathes against her daughter's forehead, leaving a soft kiss there._ _"Elena?"_

_"Yes?" Elena asks._

"Elena?"

Arms tighten around her, but they don't feel like her mom's. There is the press of a ring against her back, but it isn't the same shape as her mother's wedding ring. There is something wet on her back, something very warm resting underneath her. Dragging her weary eyes open, Elena looks around her, more than a little confused. Her heart is pounding against her chest, sending little pains out across her shoulders and torso every few seconds. She winces, trying to move, but her body feels immobile.

"What's going on?" Elena asks blearily. She looks around again, her vision flickering in and out. She manages to make out a clearing, flowers waving in the breeze, canopies scattered everywhere. Another pain shoots across her chest, harsher this time.

"Shh," someone says gently. "Hey. Elena." Hands cup her face, soft, soothing, and she looks down to see familiar blue eyes looking up at her tenderly. "You were talking in your sleep."

"I was- I was dreaming about my mom," Elena whispers, still out of it. She blinks, trying to clear the fog from her eyes, but it won't go away. "I can't see right. I - Damon, what happened? Why are we-" she looks around again, head pounding. "Why are we lying on the ground?"

"Technically I'm on top of canvas and you're on top of me," Damon corrects her. "Naked, I might add."

Elena looks down, flushing as she sees that they are, indeed, naked.

"You do remember last night, right?" Damon asks, trying not to sound worried. But she can pick it up in his voice anyway. His arms tighten around her, sending delicious feelings trickling up her legs, burning into her lips. She blushes again and he smirks.

"We, um - we," Elena stutters, too embarassed to say it. She can't even look down without blushing like a tomato. This shyness is new and completely unneeded. She never felt like this with Stefan, not even the first time that they made love, so why is she so self-conscious, so tender, with Damon?

"Made sandwiches?" Damon suggests, playing with her a little. "Played scrabble?"

Elena swats him, mumbling something into his chest as she lowers her head back down.

"What's that?" Damon asks, that irritating smirk still on his lips. She hasn't seen him so playful and relaxed in a long time. It's a refreshing change, one that looks quite good on him.

"You don't have to use euphemisms," Elena mumbles into his neck, fingering a blade of grass with her right hand. Her left hand is still tangled in Damon's, resting above his head. She blinks, surprised. She remembers holding his hand last night, digging her fingernails into the grass as he'd slammed into her, heating her up from the inside out. The underside of her nails are green, as if to remind her just how enthralled she'd been. The fact that she'd held his hand while sleeping does something to her heart, makes the corners of her mouth turn up.

"I'm sorry," Damon says, mocking her lightly. "I just assumed that you were afraid of the word sex by the way that you're rapidly turning into my favorite red vegetable."

"Tomatoes are actually classified as a fruit," Elena answers, her lips tracing against his neck, not quite leaving kisses. She smiles as his breath hitches a little, his body's reaction to her touch giving him away. She slides to the side, resting her head on his chest once more and curling against his side. Her right hand trails down, swirling gently around the smooth plains of his stomach.

"Don't do that," Damon exclaims peevishly.

She can't contain her grin.

"You said you were dreaming about your mom?" Damon asks soon after, resting his head against hers. He's probably trying to distract her, and it's working.

Elena nods slowly, blinking again. The fog closes in, clouding her vision. Her heartbeat fluctuates for a second, then drops. "She always used to make chocolate chip pancakes because she knew they were my favorite," she tells the man next to her, biting her lip as the familiar sadness descends. "I miss her so much."

"Tell me about her," Damon answers.

Elena shakes her head, quickly this time. "Every morning since the accident, I think about them. They always pop into my dreams, no matter what changes in reality. I used to write about it in my diary, but after awhile I just...I just wanted to forget about my parents. Talking about them, even thinking about them, isn't going to bring them back." She blinks back the moisture in her eyes, hating it for being there. She hates feeling so sad every time she wakes up in the morning with a clear picture in her head of her parents hugging, of her mother smiling.

"They're in your heart," Damon says after a pause. "No matter how much you try to banish them from your thoughts, I don't think you'll ever be able to banish them from your heart. They'll always be there." Using his free hand, he traces the area around her chest, over her heart. Elena shudders under his touch, glancing hesitantly up at him through burning eyes. Damon looks intense, his own eyes smoky as he leans towards her.

His lips capture her own, demanding, yet not overbearing. She leans into him, losing herself in his embrace, leaving behind the pain and fear. Right now, there is only them.

"Did you ever mention your mom to Stefan?" Damon asks between kisses.

Elena pulls back just enough to look at him in the face, though her lips are clamoring for more attention. "It's not a competition," she breathes unsteadily, the urge to hack bubbling up her throat. Her head begins to spin and she ignores the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Until you choose one of us, it's always going to be," Damon says, kissing the edge of her jaw, teasing her. She frowns at him, telling him to stop while she thinks. His answering look tells her that she thinks too much.

"No," Elena answers finally, uncertainty and fear written across her beautiful face. "I never told him about my mom. I didn't tell Caroline or Bonnie anything after the accident, or Matt, or Tyler, or anybody." She takes a deep breath. "Only you. Just you, Damon."

Damon tilts his head to the side, smiling in that way of his that sends butterflies erupting within her. His hand cups the edge of her face. "Why are you so determined to cling onto Stefan?" he asks.

Elena's breath catches in her throat as the world spins again. His tongue sweeps slowly across his upper lip, setting her insides on fire. She wants to kiss him so very badly, but she knows that she has to give him an answer first. "Maybe because I met him first," she begins slowly, lingering over each word. "Maybe because he's one of the few things that kept me alive after my parents died. And I-" she pauses, inhaling slowly, drowning in his oceanic eyes. "I'm scared of how much I feel for you. I don't know if I'm ready to feel that much. I don't know if it's the right time, or if it will _ever_ be the right time."

"You're ready," Damon murmers, his fingers stroking the side of her face tenderly. "You're ready now."

"But I'm dying," Elena whispers, her voice cracking.

Damon kisses her. The walls inside of her crash immediately, flaming higher and higher until she's consumed by it, trapped in his arms. His tongue touches her, tasting, then slips back as he kisses her deeper, not gently, not painfully. Just passion, all passion, all _them_. Tears splash down her cheeks. Elena is unable to hold them back, not when she's so wrapped up in her emotions. Damon doesn't ask her if she'll change for him. He doesn't tell her that he won't be able to go on if she isn't by his side. He just loves her right now, while she's here, alive, breathing.

"Elena," he breathes against her lips, the sound of her name so alluring coming from him. "Do you want to be a vampire?"

"Damon," Elena begins, frustrated that he won't let it go.

Damon shakes his head. "Listen, would you?" he snaps, though not too meanly. "I didn't ask if you think you should be a vampire. I asked if you wanted to be one."

Elena pauses, not having thought about it that way before, but already knowing the answer. "Last night, when I was riding on your back and you were showing me the colors, I realized that you guys get to see the brightest world. It was beautiful, and I-" she pauses, swallowing guiltily. "Of course I want it, Damon. I want every part of it." She shakes her head. "But it isn't that simple."

"No," Damon agrees, "it isn't. But you've got to decide whether you're going to do what you want, or what you think you should do."

"I don't know," Elena mutters, pressing a shaking hand against her forehead. "I don't know, damn it." She runs the same hand through her hair, groaning. "You're not supposed to make me second guess myself, Damon! You're supposed to _support_ me!"

"You should have known better than to actually believe that," Damon says with a hint of a smile, brushing off her glare. "I've always been a rebel, Elena. Not even you can change that."

"Oh yeah?" Elena says, smirking at him and leaning it, brushing her lips against his. Her eyes glance up, bright and beautiful. "I bet I can prove you wrong."

Her phone rings from across the lawn.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Damon moans. Elena rises up, blushing again as she realizes that she's in all her naked glory and Damon is staring at her. "Then again..."

"Don't be a perv, Salvatore," she hisses.

"You're the one who jumped my bones," Damon retorts, waggling his eyebrows.

Elena rolls her eyes, still blushing as she hurries over to her phone. "What's up, Care?" she asks, trying to ignore the wobbling in her legs. It's so hard to walk now, but she's determined to brush it off. No use making anyone worry. "Why are you crying?" A minute later, Elena drops the phone, covering her mouth.

"Elena, what-" Damon begins.

She whirls to face him, already glancing about to find her clothes. "It's Jeremy," Elena says, trying to breathe normally. "He's dead."

"What happened?" he asks, tugging on his dark jeans. Later, he'll give everyone a laugh about going commando, although one person might not be there. He looks at Elena, at the way that her frail limbs are shaking as she pulls up her underwear and clips her bra.

"She - she said that she's been wanting to get even, and she finally had her chance," Elena answers hoarsely, buttoning her shorts.

"Wait, what-" Damon cuts off, his expression darkening with realization. "Katherine." His hands curl into fists. "Let's go, Buffy. We've added staking a bitchy doppleganger to the agenda."

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to be continued

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	11. xi

καταναλωτής

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**a/n**: I'm kind of sad how much the reviews have dropped. Though I'm still getting a decent amount, it has dropped to half of what it used to be. Keep on reviewing, guys. I've been putting my heart and soul into this, pumping out updates like never before. I hope you like this installment (:

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part _eleven _

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_"Kill you? Mm, no, don't be obvious. I mean, I'm going to kill you anyway, someday. I don't wanna rush it though. I'm saving it up for something special. No, no no no no. _

_I will burn you." _

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"I'm surprised," Katherine mumbles, sifting through the Gilbert's fridge with her black tipped nails. "Does no one in this house drink Orange Juice?" She shakes her head, sending her perfect curls flopping to the other side of her back. "Unless Jeremy's been overdosing on Vitamin D. That would explain the ghostly visits..."

"Orange Juice contains high quantities of Vitamin C, moron," Caroline mutters under her breath. Crossing her legs and sitting up so she is perched on the edge of the couch, Caroline tries not to look at all frightened by the fact that she is under house arrest by one of the most vicious, cold-hearted vampires she has ever known.

Katherine turns, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she stares at the blonde vampire. "I don't remember telling you that you could speak," she says slowly, eyes flicking briefly towards the stairwell.

"I don't remember you telling me not to," Caroline retorts, hiding her arms behind her back so Katherine won't see them shaking.

Smiling, Katherine says, "I admire your spunk. If I hadn't already planned to kill you, you might have made a good minion."

"Please," Caroline snorts, rolling her eyes. "Minions are so last century."

"If you hadn't noticed, I existed last century," Katherine points out. "Now be quiet." She resumes searching for something in the fridge, muttering something about _"brought my own vodka"_ and _"could of at least had something to mix it with."_ At last, she pulls out a bottle of Cranberry Juice. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, she pours a bit of Cranberry Juice and mixes it with vodka, stirring it with her index finger.

"Or what?" Caroline's voice breaks the silence, steely, despite her fear.

Katherine sighs, not even bothering to turn around as she snaps her fingers. Instantly, blinding pain bursts into Caroline's head and a groan leaves her mouth before she can stop it. Agony bounces from one end of her skull to the other, piercing and compressing until she can't take it anymore. Unwilling tears leave her eyes as she moans, "Stop it. Please stop it."

After more than a minute of watching Caroline thrash on the floor, Katherine snaps her fingers again, a smirk on her face. Bending over the sobbing blonde, Katherine says softly, "I have a witch under compulsion and more than a hundred years on you. I suggest you learn some respect."

Through the haze of fading pain and tears, Caroline manages a weak nod.

"Now," Katherine continues, taking another sip of her drink, "where is your phone?"

"Why," Caroline whispers.

"Look at you," Katherine croons, running her fingers gently down the side of the blonde's face and making her shiver. "You think you're so brave, but after enough pain, you'll break." Her hand slides into Caroline's pocket and pulls out her pink-gemmed phone. Katherine's lips trail towards Caroline's ear, hovering just above the sweat-stained skin. "Do you know what it is like to be tortured, to beg for mercy and to hear only laughs in return? After awhile, you don't feel the pain anymore. You start to welcome it." Her fingers dig into Caroline's neck, earning a gurgled gasp. "You welcome the madness, because it is the only happiness you will ever experience again."

"Is that what someone did to you?" Caroline says faintly, looking up at the vengeful brunette with foggy eyes. "Is that why you hurt other people, Katherine? You think it will fix what they did to you."

Katherine's face grows sad for a moment, open, vulnerable. Then a dark wall slams over her features and she snaps her fingers again. Screams fill the room.

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"Your phone is ringing," Damon comments over the hum of the radio. After flying back to the boarding house, they had taken Damon's car just in case. In case of what, Elena doesn't want to know. She doesn't want to think about anyone getting hurt because of her.

Turning the music down, Elena holds the phone up so she can see who is calling.

"It's Caroline," she says, relief creeping into her worried tone. "Maybe Jeremy woke up."

"I seriously doubt it," Damon replies, shrugging with she gives him a look. "I just speak the truth. Last time it took him a few hours."

Elena leans against the window, pressing the phone to her ear. "I'm just glad that he was wearing his ring," she murmers. "I don't know what I would do if he died."

"You'd survive," Damon says simply.

Elena presses her lips together as she answers the phone. "Hey Care. How is he?"

"Well, hello Elena," a familiar voice croons.

"Katherine," Elena spits. Damon's eyes grow wide and starts to move the car over to the side of the road, but Elena shakes her head, gesturing for him to keep going. He complies, giving her phone a furious look that nearly sears the case.

"Brilliant," Katherine comments sarcastically. "You connected the dots."

"What are you doing with Caroline's phone?" Elena snaps.

"Why don't you say hi to Care-bear yourself?" Katherine suggests. There are muffled ends from her end and then the sound of sobbing fills the phone.

"Elena," Caroline whimpers. "She - she's got Jeremy and Bonnie trapped upstairs and she, oh God-"

There is the sound of a slap.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Elena snarls.

"Oh nothing," Katherine murmers, her voice like silk. "I just put her through a few rounds of Witchy Migraines. She's not unconscious...yet."

"You put Bonnie under your compulsion," Elena guesses quickly.

"Smart girl," Katherine praises, laughing. "I knew there was a reason Stefan chose you."

"Please tell me this has nothing to do with Stefan," Elena groans. "Is this really because of that twisted crush you have on him? Because if it is, you have to work that out with Stefan, not take it out on my friends. They did _nothing_ to you."

Damon has turned his eyes as she mentions Stefan and is now staring at her through his peripherals, his expression like storm clouds. Elena touches his right hand, tangling their fingers for just a second.

"You're really that shallow," Katherine hisses. "Life doesn't revolve around relationships, Elena. I thought you would have figured that out by now."

"What is this about then?" Elena asks. "Stop playing games and tell me."

"It's nothing more than a lesson," Katherine coos. "Nothing more than a little game, between you and me, one that will teach you just how priceless life really is. Shall I tell you about the stakes?"

"Go ahead," Elena grunts, pressing a hand against her forehead.

"You have one hour to come to your home and kill me," Katherine says slowly, as if savoring each word. "If you fail to do so, I will kill your brother, Bonnie and Caroline, and trust me when I say I will enjoy dragging it out."

"If I win?" Elena asks, already imagining scenarios in which Stefan, Damon and the few Originals still around town head into her home and tear Katherine to pieces. The blackness in her heart cheers at the thought.

"Then I will be dead," Katherine says, "and you won't have to worry about me anymore. Oh, and Elena? Don't get any ideas about having your bodyguards kill me. I have to die within the hour at your hand, or the ones you love will die."

"But-" Elena cuts off. "I-"

She looks down at her flaking skin, at the blue veins traveling the length of her body, at the way that her eyes fog in and out, how her heart lurches and aches every second. "Why are you doing this Katherine? Do you just want me dead?"

Katherine laughs bitterly. "Why would I want to kill you? No. That wouldn't accomplish anything." There is a long pause in which Elena can hear the vampire breathing. "I want to _burn_ you, Elena."

Elena presses down on the _End Call_ button so hard she nearly cracks the front of her phone. Shuddering, she places the phone in her lip and says quietly, "Did you hear?"

"Everything," Damon says.

"I thought I was supposed to be dead by now," she whispers.

"You were," Damon answers hesitantly, already figuring out where she's going with it. Some part of his heart sinks, while another part of him begins to hope that maybe he has a chance at eternity with the girl that he loves.

"Maybe there's a reason my body is hanging on so long," Elena says, numbness creeping up and capturing her in icy hands. "Maybe I-" she breaks off, taking a deep breath.

"I have to turn, Damon," Elena breathes.

"You don't have to," Damon argues weakly, hope bursting to life within him.

Elena shakes her head. "She's threatening the ones that I love, and I will not sit here and let myself die while they are in trouble. If I have to stake myself later, so be it." Her hand tightens around his. "I'm going to transition."

**.**

.**.**

..**.**

Damon pulls the car to a step against the sidewalk by the park, in clear view of the vacant swings and playset. The shops to the left are either boarded up or still closed. The only other person around is a jogger making her way down the other sidewalk across the street.

"Did you have to pick such a public place?" Elena snaps, knowing that the only reason she is lashing out at Damon is because of the overpowering terror building within her. She feels like she's going to throw up. "Someone's going to see."

"Elena," Damon says gently, "it's not even six yet." He points out the clock by the dashboard.

Elena takes a deep breath, watching as the woman bends down to tie her shoelaces. "Is she-"

She can't get the words out. They're stuck in her chest, bundled in with other whirling emotions and the decaying state of her body. Damon nods, taking hold of her hand.

"You still don't have to do this," he says, reaching out to touch her cheek with his free hand.

Elena leans into his palm, grateful for his presence. "I thought you wanted me to live," she says.

"Of course I want you to live," Damon answers, stroking her cheek with the side of his thumb. "But, in the end, it's your decision, Elena. I'm not going to try to change your mind if you really want to die."

Elena nods. "When the time comes," she asks, "will you stake me when I ask you to?"

Damon stares at her for a long time, his face slowly falling into sadness. "Don't ask me to do that," he says.

"Ok," Elena answers, squeezing his hand tightly and glancing back at the jogger, who is finally straightening up. "Damon, I'm scared."

"I was too, when I transitioned," Damon admits. "It's over quickly. Just don't kill her."

Elena looks at his handsome features, trying to imagine the fear on his face as Stefan had guided him towards the bleeding neck of a girl. It only makes him all the more real and human to her. Breathing deeply, Elena opens the passenger door, sliding out. Her feet crunch against leaves as they hit the ground and without thinking any more about what she is about to do, Elena walks quickly across the street and towards the jogger. Her breath curls in the air, the cold stinging her face. It feels refreshing, cleansing almost.

"Excuse me," Elena calls out, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Guilt hits her like a brick as the woman turns around, her face worried and welcoming, no hint of fear there.

"Is everything okay?" The woman asks.

"Yeah," Elena says. Her tongue dries up, the moisture rising to her eyes. Tears bud like dew drops on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, you just reminded me of someone I loved very much."

"Oh," the woman says, sympathy blossoming across her face. Her green eyes twinkle as she takes a step closer. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

Elena shakes her head, the tears blinding her. _I'm not okay_, she thinks, her mouth salivating with hunger. _I haven't been okay since my parents died, and now here I am, about to kill someone._ "I'm sorry," she says again.

"What do you-" the woman begins, eyes widening as Elena lurches towards her, fangs slicing through her gums and piercing into fresh flesh. The woman lets out a gurgle, one that becomes a sigh of enchantment as the endorphins begin to work their magic. Elena feeds slowly, losing herself in the wonderful taste of fresh blood. As she sips, she feels something strengthening within her and the woman in her arms doesn't feel so heavy anymore.

_Just don't kill her_. Damon's words echo in her mind and with a gasp, Elena forces herself to pull back. Blood is already dripping onto the sidewalk, coating the woman's face and Elena's clothes. Elena begins to shake, feeling the horrible ache under her eyes and in her gums, fighting the consuming hunger within her.

"Elena."

She whirls around, a snarl building in her throat and red glazing her eyes. _I have become the monster I never should have wanted in the first place._

"Elena, remember why you're doing this." She looks up, meets concerned blue eyes, like flecks of ice.

Jeremy, lying in a pool of his own blood. Bonnie, forced to hurt those that she loves. Caroline, sobbing on the floor. Stefan. Damon. _Damon_.

Opening her bloody lips, Elena whispers, "How much time do we have?"

**.**

.**.**

..**.**

to be continued

..**.**

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**.**


End file.
